Private, I
by TayBee
Summary: It's ironic that the one person I'm supposed to be invisible to is the one person in years that actually sees me. What's worse is the desperate need I have for her, and the realization that my lies are bound to tear us apart. All human, M for L&L, HEA in one way or another.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Um, hi ya'll. I'm still in med school. I'm about a month out from my first round of board exams and short on time, but I've been working on this story for a long, long time. I'll get back to The Surrogate eventually, but I figure since that one had already been completed once before I can post this one while it's speaking to me. It'll be angsty. And I'm going to attempt to write a lemon or two. So, ya know, 18 and over or whatnot. Hope you enjoy it._

* * *

"It would be great if she was cheating on me."

The sentence uttered by the man in front of my desk startles me out of my daze. He _wants_ his wife to cheat on him?

I've been working as a private investigator for nearly eight years, and I don't experience a lot of firsts anymore, but this man is something I've never seen before.

"That would be a good thing?"

He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable by the antagonizing tone I've managed to deliver in one short question.

"Well, uh, it's the only way to void the pre-nup. She has to be caught being unfaithful."

_Oh_. He's after her money.

"Okay," I say simply. I'm too tired to even cover my gaffe. I smile weakly, trying to assure him that I won't mention it again. If this prick wants to know how his wife spends her days, I'll make sure to find out. After his first check clears.

I hate this part of my job. In my early days as a PI, I aided foster kids in finding their biological parents. I solved a few cold cases that the police department had given up on or deemed unworthy of their time. I had helped people.

But the money wasn't coming in fast enough. I was barely covering rent, much less food and bills.

I took my first domestic case. I followed some trophy wife for a grand total of thirteen hours before I knew the name, profession, and address of the man she was having an affair with. I gave her bigwig husband a few photos and documents, collected my paycheck, and walked away. I never wanted to do it again.

However, bigwig had been happy with my quick work. It turned out I was pretty great at digging up what people tried to keep buried. He recommended me to a friend, who passed my name on to a coworker, who referred a few golf buddies to me. It was amazing how suddenly my services became popular.

I've been a PI for eight years, and for five years of it, I have been destroying lives instead of helping them. Because of my work, over two hundred marriages had ended in bitter divorces, lies, and hate.

I brush a crumb from lunch off my desk and tried not to think about it. The client in front of me cleared his throat and forced my attention back to the present.

I was officially taking cases where husbands were actually _hoping _their wives were being unfaithful.

"I'm leaving town next week," he says. "I'll be gone for two months to work on site. That should be plenty of time to get some dirt on her. And let me be clear, Mr. Cullen, I want dirt on her. Anything you can find. If she's not cheating on me, make it look like it. By any means necessary."

"Don't worry, Mr. Black. I'm the best in the business. I don't forge information, but I will do my very best to find anything she doesn't want exposed."

"Yes, Seth told me you did excellent work for him. I expect you'll do the same for me."

"Of course, sir. I'll be at your house tomorrow morning, parked a few houses away. I'll see you then."

He pushes himself out of the chair and nods at me. He doesn't shake my outstretched hand as he turns to leave.

My door slams closed and I sigh. My foot taps the ground and I wait. A soft knock on the door comes just a moment later.

"I don't know why you still knock," I shout. "But come in."

"His first check cleared," Jenks says, only sticking his head through my doorway. "You, Edward Cullen, are on your way to another ten grand."

* * *

I get off work later than usual. Visiting hours are almost over by the time I get to the LTAC. I hurry past Alice and she gives me a warning look. She hates having to ask me to leave.

Her eyes are laced with guilt and pity.

I look away from her. There is only one pair of eyes I want to see.

Everything is the same in the room I've entered. Same bed, same tubes, same wires.

Same computer monitor.

Same wave patterns.

Those waves are the only reason I keep coming back to the same thing.

"Sorry I'm late," I say, and the waves peak.

* * *

_4602 Walnut Street,_ I read again, heading down the block of suburban houses to find the place where Mrs. Black will be waking up in about twenty minutes. According to her husband, she wakes up about ten minutes before he leaves every day to say goodbye.

_Doesn't sound so bad._

I find the house with ease. It's a larger house on the corner, surrounded by gardens and several older trees. A small porch swing hangs near the front door from the overhang of a second floor balcony. I take a deep breath and run a hand over my face.

I turn off my car at the park across the street. I climb out of my seat with my iPod and headphones in hand. I can jog a few laps to around the park before I meet with Jacob Black one more time.

I am sufficiently out of breath by the time Jacob casually makes his way over to my car. To any other person, he looks like a friendly neighbor saying hello to a jogger at the park. To me, he looks like some asshole willing to pay to catch his wife doing anything wrong.

"I doubt she's actually cheating on me," he mutters as we stand next to my car. His disappointment is clear. "She took those stupid vows seriously." He sighs with aggravation and shoves a hand in his pocket. "I need the divorce to be _her _fault. I need that pre-nup dissolved before I file. Understood?"

Since our initial meeting, Mr. Jacob Black has proven to be nothing but a colossal prick. I've considered turning down his business several times, but then I think of the waves and the LTAC and know I need the money.

I sigh and rub my chin. I shaved this morning and am not used to feeling the smooth skin there. "Understood, Mr. Black. Give me a few weeks. I'll get you something."

He nods curtly and leaves without a goodbye.

I turn back to the track and push myself as fast as I can to the other side of the park. It distracts me from what I'm about to do.

* * *

Mrs. Black doesn't leave the house much. I learn this after watching her for three days. She's only left twice. Once, she went to the grocery store. The second time she left, she went to her mother's house, stayed for a few hours, and promptly returned home.

I wonder what it is that keeps her so busy inside. Does she work? Is she taking care of pets? Jacob told me they didn't have children together. I haven't gotten close enough to know much else about her yet.

In fact, I don't think I've even really seen her face. It's been rainy the past few days and she's worn zip up coats with the hoods pulled up any time she's left the house. All I've really seen of her is her dark brown hair.

I groan as I sit back on the park bench, clutching a book in my lap that I lost interest in long ago. I opt to pull out my phone and play a few games while I wait for _anything _to happen at Mrs. Black's house.

Finally, she emerges, and my breath speeds up more than it does after I've run a few miles.

It's sunny today, and she's wearing a soft, flowing blood-red blouse. Her jeans are dark and skin-tight. On her feet are tall black heels.

What I can see of her arms surprises me. I was expecting Mrs. Black to have the same tan that all the other women in the neighborhood have, but she's so pale she looks almost angelic.

It's her face, the same face I've been trying to see for three days now, that catches me the most off guard. Mrs. Black is _beautiful_. She has these large, brown eyes and this button nose. It's adorable.

Her cheeks are flushed as she carries a large binder to her car. The wind whips her long, chestnut hair around her as she opens the door.

She's in her car then, breaking my trance, and is pulling out of the driveway before I can even move.

"Game time," I whisper to myself, hopping up from my bench and jumping into my car as smoothly as I can. I follow her from a few cars behind as she catches the highway and exits on a road I know only leads to a fancy hotel.

"Bingo," I mutter, pulling out my camera and parking a few lanes away from her in front of the resort. I wait till she enters the hotel before I follow, my heart racing as I walk briskly into the lobby. She's not standing at the front desk, and I scan the area for her figure. I see her walking, binder in hand, towards the bar at the back of the hotel. I follow behind and take a table a few down from where she sits.

She's clearly waiting for someone, but I couldn't have a single idea as to who it is. I hope it's a male, so I can snap my pictures and be done with this as soon as possible.

A waitress comes up to me and asks for my order. I glance over the menu and order the first appetizer I see. She nods and moves on to her next table. By the time I've looked up, I see Mrs. Black stand from the table to greet someone. Another woman.

_Damn. _

I try not to be too obvious in my ease dropping but hope that this blonde woman is a close friend of hers. Maybe she'll talk about something scandalous.

"Rose, it's great to see you," she says, hugging her tightly before sitting down in her previous seat.

"You too, Bella. You got any news for me?"

Mrs. Black, _Bella_, smiles brightly. "It's done," she says, passing the binder over to her. "I wanted you to be the first to have it."

The other woman laughs and practically lunges for the binder.

_What on earth could she be giving her?_

"Oh, Bella, I can't wait to get in to all of this. You have no idea how many people have been waiting to see more of your work."

She blushes and looks down. I don't know what they're talking about, but seeing Mrs. Black blush makes me want to know how else I can elicit that reaction from her. I wonder how far down her body it travels before the pink finally fades and gives way to her alabaster skin.

I shake my head, unsure why this woman has caught me by such surprise.

Bella and her friend order food from the same waitress that served me earlier and I sigh. Nothing interesting will come of this lunch.

My food is served and I eat only half of it before asking for the check. I'm ready to get out of the restaurant and back to my car.

I've packed my camera up in the back seat when I realize I left my debit card on the table. _Of course_.

I slam the door of my car in frustration and head back towards the restaurant, hoping to avoid detection by either Bella or her friend. They're finishing up their lunch when I walk to the table where my plate and receipt still sit. I grab my card and turn around to see that they're gone.

"Fucking great," I mutter. I have no idea if she's going back home or if she's planning on meeting up with someone else, and I just lost my tail on her.

Before I can make my way into the lobby, I collide with another body. We both grab at each other to avoid falling down, and end up in an awkward embrace with both of their arms pinned behind their back. I let go of them after I've held on just long enough to feel a woman's breasts press against me.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," she mutters, reaching down to pick up my debit card for me. She stands up and I realize I've run smack dab into the beautiful woman I'm supposed to be spying on. She's still looking at the card before she finally meets my stunned gaze. We lock eyes and I feel frozen to my spot. A blush crawls up her cheeks and I smirk at the irony that is my life.

_Well, you _did _want to make her blush._

She smiles at me and my breath catches. I briefly wonder if she notices my halted breathing before I realize she's trying to hand me my debit card.

"I'm such a klutz, I could trip over a blade of grass" she says when I finally grab my card from her. Our fingers brush and I swear I can feel her energy move up my arm.

"It was my fault, Mrs. -" I catch myself before revealing that I already know her name.

"Black," she finishes, assuming my pause of silence was a question. "But please call me Bella.

She thrusts her hand towards me and I shake it softly, again feeling the odd current between us before she slowly pulls herself away from me.

"Nice to meet you, Bella. I'm-"

"Edward," she again finishes for me. She blushes deeper as soon as she says my name. "I saw the name on your debit card."

"Oh, of course," I say with a smile and nod my head, unsure of what to say back. Panic rushes through me when I comprehend that she knows my real name. I'm supposed to be invisible to her. I was supposed to get in, get the dirt, and get out. But now she knows me. I'm a blip on her radar.

I _need _to find an escape route, to get away from her as soon as possible.

But instead I stand in front of her, thinking about how nice my name sounds on her lips.

Her eyes scan my face as she takes me in.

She _sees _me. Besides Jenks and Alice, no one else ever actually sees me. It's part of the job.

While she looks me over, I find myself doing the same. I've followed Mrs. Black for three days now, but I've never seen her this close. There is a small scar just above her top lip. Her eyelashes are dark and long enough to have left several small marks of mascara just below her eyebrow. Her eyes twinkle with mischief and happiness for just a moment before someone calls out her name.

"Bella?" The blonde woman from earlier approaches us with an odd look on her face. She's clutching the binder that Bella gave her at the beginning of lunch with a tight grip. "Who's your friend?"

Bella smirks at me and turns to her lunch date. "Oh, Rosalie, this is Edward. We just met. I tried to run him over."

"It was my fault," I interrupt again, forcing my hand forward to shake Rosalie's. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking." I smile at Bella and she looks away from me.

"Well, it was nice to meet you Edward, but Bella and I have a movie to catch." Rose smiles at me and I know she's not lying. I nod and look to Bella one more time.

"Thank you for catching me, Edward," she says softly, suddenly refusing to look me in the eyes. "I hope I see you again."

And with that, they're off, walking towards the main exit at a rapid pace. I shake my arms, as if that will somehow shake off the feelings Bella left behind, and head in the same direction.

I follow them to a movie theatre but don't go inside. I've run in to them once today. If Mrs. Black sees me again it's game over.

I wait in my car and flip through a book I'm trying to find interest in. My favorite author doesn't have a book coming out for another several months and I'm trying to find any other novel that captures my interest in the time being.

Two hours pass before the two women emerge from the theatre. Mrs. Black is talking animatedly about something and her friend, Rosalie, nods in agreement as they walk the parking lot. Neither of them looks particularly happy.

I wonder if they were displeased with the movie.

They both get in to their respective cars and drive a short distance before pulling up to an attorney's office.

_Esme Platt, Attorney at Law_ is written on a sign just above the door. I write her name down and plan to look in to Attorney Platt and the kind of cases she works on.

What are they up to?

Bella walks in to the office holding only her purse, but Rosalie carries the binder in with her. They sit in the office for just over an hour before emerging again. Mrs. Black seems worn, but happy. Rosalie has a small smile on her face. They exchange a few words and hugs before Mrs. Black climbs in to her car and drives home.

She does nothing the rest of the night.

* * *

"I don't know, Jenks. I think I'm fine." I say while I sit in his office much later that night. I'm honestly not sure what time it is, but the clock was well past midnight the last time I looked at it.

"She didn't notice me the rest of the day, and I followed them for quite a while."

Jenks looks unconvinced. I plead with him more, even though I'm honestly not sure why I want to stay on this case so badly.

_For the money,_ I tell myself. Something in my gut churns, like even my organs know it's a lie.

"I'll get a rental car and stay a little farther back. I don't think you need to take over yet," I promise. "You know I can do this."

Jenks has been my partner for the entire eight years I've been working, and we make one hell of a team. He's pissed at me right now for allowing Mrs. Black to not only see me, but also to learn my real name. The fact that we had an entire conversation sets him even more on edge.

"You really think that's a good idea?" His hands are clutching a stress ball. It's the one habit of his I've never understood. I don't think the ball actually relieves any of his stress, but I'd rather he squeeze it instead of punch me.

I know the smart thing would be to give the case to Jenks. My cover has been blown. It's not safe to try and follow Mrs. Black anymore. But the idea of not seeing her again makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. I can't just walk away.

I nod to answer his question.

"It shouldn't take long to get dirt on her anyway," I swear. "I'll be in and out in no time. What ever she had in that binder was top secret. I just have to figure it out and that should be it. No one hides something that's truly innocent."

Jenks nods tersely. He doesn't like this, but he trusts me. Plus, he's got a shit ton on his plate right now anyway.

"Just don't screw this up," he begs. "We need this account."

"Trust me, I know," I say, thinking of bills piling up on my desk.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi, guys. I hope you're enjoying this so far. Follow me on twitter at taybeetwi. I'll be posting teasers and answering any questions over there. For anyone wondering, I have nearly finished writing this story. It's something I've been working on for a long time. I plan to post a chapter every Friday._

_Ya'll behave now. _

_-TayBee_

* * *

I sit in the nurses break room with Alice while she heats up some dinner for the both of us. Tonight she's made us her famous pot roast. My stomach tightens as the smells fill the room.

"What do you think about marriage?" She suddenly asks, placing a plate in front of me.

"Marriage?" I repeat in surprise.

"Yeah, marriage. Holy matrimony. Till death do us part and all that."

"I think it's a load of shit," I say before I can even comprehend the words coming out of my mouth.

Alice doesn't seem particularly surprised by my answer.

"Why?"

I tilt my head at her and raise an eyebrow, as if she doesn't know my occupation.

"Besides the fact that my entire career centers around proving every marriage ends in infidelity?"

My mind wanders to a stunning brunette that is being betrayed by the very man that promised to love and cherish.

Alice smirks at me and shakes her head.

"Yeah, give me a reason besides that."

I think for a moment about my answer. What has gone so horribly wrong that practically every marriage these days is a mistake? What changes between dating and marriage that can turn a love sick woman into a miserable housewife desperate for escape?

"Because people lie. They find someone they like and try to make themselves into someone that person would find more enjoyable. Being in a relationship consists of contorting yourself into someone you think your partner could love. Marriage just means you can stop pretending. Then you discover the person you married is nothing like the person you dated."

"Are you talking about your father?"

This is one of the reasons I love Alice. She doesn't dance around what happened. She never hesitates before she talks to me.

She doesn't act like I'm a broken piece of glass just waiting to shatter.

I nod after a moment. "My mother said he was quite charming when they dated. She thought he was such a gentleman. Why are you asking anyway?"

"Jasper asked if I wanted to start looking at rings." Her eyes drop to her plate. One arm wraps across herself and grabs on to her shoulder while the other hand pushes her fork around her plate and she plays absently with her food.

My body language courses scream at me. _Hurt_.

I feel like the biggest ass.

"Alice," I say, but she doesn't look up at me. "Alice, I'm sorry."

Her eyes are glistening when she finally looks up at me.

"It's okay," she says with a shrug, "I asked."

"I wish the world hadn't turned me in to such a cynic," I say, "but it got to me young." I flash her a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

She offers me a small lift of her closed lips and we sit in silence for a few moments.

"Jasper is a good man," I say eventually.

She smiles softly at me, genuinely this time.

"So I have your approval?"

I nod, hum, and pray that he doesn't hurt her.

* * *

I follow Mrs. Black nearly non-stop. When she turns the lights out at night, I go home. I come back before she finishes her morning coffee.

Since I touched her at the restaurant, things have been different. Insanely different.

She's captivating.

I no longer watch her because I'm being paid to do so. I watch her because I crave seeing her. I watch her because the thought of not seeing her every day actually makes me physically ache.

She gardens a lot. She talks to the mailman. She watches her neighbor's kids while they run inside to take a phone call. She's great with kids, would make a wonderful mother. I wonder if desires having any with Jacob.

The thought makes my stomach churn uncomfortably.

However, underneath all of the wonderful things she does and all the happiness she spreads, I can see sadness. Disappointment. Dissatisfaction.

I see it in her slumping shoulders when she sits alone at the table for a meal. I notice that she stays in her car for several minutes when she arrives home. She closes her eyes and rests her head on the steering wheel. There's a look of longing in her eyes every time a family stops to talk to her while they walk their dog or push a stroller down her street. There's some part of her life that is still unfulfilled.

I wonder if she'll ever find what it is that she needs.

Jacob calls me about ten minutes after his wife has eaten another dinner without him. Part of me wants to ignore his phone call. He made me wait two days before he managed to call me back. Can't I do the same? With a sigh I accept the call.

"This is Cullen."

"Do you have anything for me?" He doesn't say hello. I grit my teeth at the grating tone in his voice.

"She met with a woman named Rosalie a few days ago and gave her a large binder that they refused to open in public. Then they went to an attorney, Esme Platt. Do you want me to pursue it?"

Jacob sighs heavily and I know he's not pleased. "Rosalie is her publicist. Bella is an author. She was giving Rosalie the new manuscript, and they have to see a lawyer to secure her copyright before they publish anything."

"You never told me her profession, and her name didn't pop up in any of my searches," I defend.

"That's because she writes under a pen name. Izzy Swan."

My world shifts.

"Izzy Swan?" I ask, not sure I heard him correctly.

"Yeah. Look, this business trip is already a shit storm. I'm probably going to be here an extra month. That should give you plenty of time to find something good on her. Don't waste my time again."

He hangs up and leaves me in silence while I stare at his wife, who I just discovered writes the only books that have ever captivated my interest.

Just like her books, Bella Black has captivated me too.

* * *

Another week passes, and Mrs. Black has proven to be nothing but a saint. She hasn't looked in the direction of a single male. She hasn't spoken a foul word about her husband. Even with his long absence, she hasn't shown any reason to question her faithfulness.

She's volunteered, she's written, she's spoken to Rose and a few other female friends, visited her parents, and that's it.

She had one male visit her, three days ago, and my chest filled with both dread and relief when she hugged him on her doorstep. I snapped as many pictures as I could before they went inside and wrote down the license plate number on the man's car.

I find myself much more glad than I should be when I discover the man to be her brother, Emmett.

I tap in to her Internet history and find nothing of interest. A few Google searches of the weather, she's read several news articles and looked at a few home update blogs, but nothing else.

I look at her financial history and come up empty. Other than realizing she earns three times more than her husband, nothing even catches my attention.

I look at her college and high school transcripts. She grew up in a small town in Washington and moved across the nation for college. I briefly wonder what inspired her to move so far. Then I find a picture of a much younger Jacob and Bella at her high school graduation in an old newspaper snippet. As valedictorian of her class, an article had been written about her educational achievements and her desire to go to college to become an author.

I smirk when I realize no one on her street likely knows she is a five-time best selling author. I wonder why she writes under a pen name, as her books are something she could boast about and gain a lot of publicity from. She instead is very humble and still keeps her identity secret.

Around three in the afternoon, she emerges from her home with an empty canvas bag and an ipod in one hand. She tosses them in the back seat of her car and climbs in to the driver seat. She backs out of her driveway and I start up my rental.

I follow her to a quaint bookstore she frequents and see her smile briefly at her own book sitting in the window. She's been here several times before, but just today did her latest book earn a spot in the display.

I sit on a bench across the street with my sunglasses and a fedora on. It's more than a little overkill, but it calms Jenks down. I have told him several times I doubt Mrs. Black even remembers me, but he insists I still drive a different car and hide my copper hair at all times.

After a few hours of reading and drinking coffee in a seat near the window, she exits the bookstore carrying a heavy canvas bag full of books. It hangs past the bottom of the light blue cotton sundress she's worn today. Her pale calves nearly reflect the light from the setting sun. She smiles and turns her face towards the West to absorb the last few moments of its heat. She pulls down a pair of aviators from the top of her head and starts walking down the sidewalk.

I stay on my bench until she turns just out of my sight. I know with a bag that heavy, she has to be headed to her car in a parking lot a few blocks away.

She walks down the street for a while before turning to an alley that will get her to her car faster, but I won't be able to follow her down the narrow space without being detected.

I leave her alone in the alley and jog around the building to the other side. I should get there just as she pulls her car out of the parking lot.

Her car is still there and empty when I get to the parking lot, and I feel my eyebrows scrunch without my permission.

I know how fast she walks. She should have reached her car by now.

I turn around, wondering if she decided to go to another store when I hear a shout from the alley she was just walking through.

"Get off me!"

I'm sprinting towards the dark alley before I can process if it was even Mrs. Black yelling. The speed forces my hat off of my head and I tear my glasses off when the shadows encase me.

Mrs. Black is screaming, tears are streaming down her face, and she's trying with all her might to push a large man off of her. I'm still a few yards away from them when he slams her small frame against the brick wall of a bar. She shouts in pain and tries to knee him in the groin, but he arches his hips away from her.

"I said get off me!" Her voice is growing frailer by the second, and I can see her energy draining from her.

She fights one shoulder out of his grasp, lifts her arm and tries to punch the man's throat as I reach them.

"Get off her," I scream. I grab on to his long hair and yank him away from her. She collapses to the ground while he stumbles back. He smells strongly of alcohol and cigarettes and doesn't offer much of a fight before righting himself and facing me.

"Look, man, I'm just trying to have a little fun here. Keep on moving," he says. His eyes are glazed. They wander back over to Bella. I don't look at her, but I can hear her sobs increase under his gaze.

I don't hesitate before I sink my fist into his face. He hits the concrete and doesn't move. Pain shoots up my knuckles and I know my skin has broken without even looking at my hand. I curl and uncurl my fingers a few times while I stare at the man's form, making sure he is really unconscious.

Mrs. Black sniffles behind me and I spin around to face her. She is shaking and curled in a ball next to the dumpster where the bastard who attacked her must have been hiding. Her face is pressed between her knees and she rocks slightly back and forth.

"Are you okay?" I ask, squatting low so that my face is level with hers.

She finally looks up from her knees and shock flitters across her face.

"Edward," she cries, reaching for me before I can even process it. I stumble backwards on to my ass but her momentum continues and she face plants in to my chest. She grabs on to my shoulders and pulls her body towards me so that in seconds she's sitting in my lap and wailing in to my T-shirt.

I don't hesitate as I wrap my arms around her and pull her tightly against me. I whisper to her repeatedly that she's okay and that I'll keep her safe.

_She remembered my name_.

"It's okay, Mrs. Black. You're okay," I repeat over and over while I stroke her hair. I rub the small of her back while her sobs slowly start to soften.

"It's Bel- Bella," she manages through her hiccups.

Her dress is torn at the top and the hem of it is pushed around her waist. She's still got her underwear on, but I can't even focus on the lace that I catch a glimpse of because I'm so distracted by the scrapes on her knees.

I reach forward to touch a cut on her thigh and she recoils away from me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I say. I pray that I haven't frightened her.

"I'm fine," she says, "just please get me out of here."

"We need to call the police."

"Please, Edward," she begs. "He's drunk. You taught him a lesson. Please get me out of here."

I want this guy taken to jail. He deserves to rot in a prison cell. But Bella is still trembling in my arms and looks so upset and I don't want to traumatize her more. I spot a security camera on the corner of the alley pointed in our direction. I nod tersely at her but don't say anything.

I pick her up bridal style and grab the bag of books she spent hours picking out and carry her to my car. She clutches to my neck so tightly it almost hurts.

I set her in the passenger seat of my rental and pull out my cell phone.

I won't make Bella stay there, but I'm still calling 911.

I tell the dispatcher that I saw an assault, but that the victim escaped after a Good Samaritan got to her. I add that a security camera caught the whole thing. I tell her where the punk is lying unconscious and hang up before turning my car on.

"Thank you," Bella whispers. She looks at me with disbelieving eyes.

"Let's get you home," I say, putting the car in reverse. "Where do you live?"

"Please don't take me there," she begs, "It's empty there. It's cold. Take me with you. Take me anywhere but home."

I wonder if she doesn't want to go home because she misses her husband, or if it's because she doesn't want to think about him.

I start to drive her to my apartment, because I don't know where else to take her and she doesn't look like she wants to be in public right now.

The drive is silent except for a few of her sniffles. She wipes her face furiously, refusing to let any of her tears drop from her eyes.

While we drive, I reflect back to her calling my name when she saw me. After two weeks of convincing myself she couldn't have possibly felt the spark between us that I did, I find myself questioning things. If she remembered my name, maybe she felt something too. Maybe I made a big enough impact on her that she thought of my name over the last two weeks.

_Or maybe she's just good with faces._

We arrive at my building and Bella looks a little out of place surrounded by the shitty cars and graffiti that encase my building.

"I know it's not much," I say, and follow her gaze to the broken down complex. A window is boarded up on a higher floor, and a few letters on the main sign have fallen off. Most of the bushes are dead, but they've at least been trimmed down enough to keep them off the sidewalk.

"I'm trying to keep costs low right now," I add, hoping that Bella will not find my home as terrifying from the inside.

She turns to me and gives me a weak but genuine smile. My heart clenches in my chest. "I'm sure it's lovely."

I move my right hand to pull my key out of the ignition when Bella spots my bloodied knuckles.

"Oh," she says softly, reaching a hand forward to touch them. I stiffen slightly when her skin makes contact with mine.

"Does it hurt?" she asks, and her teeth seek out her bottom lip. _Jesus._

"Not too badly," I say, pulling my hand away from hers and curling and uncurling my fist as if to prove it. "I know how to throw a punch. Nothing's broken."

"Well, except for his nose," she says, and her smile comes and goes so fast I nearly miss it.

I smile back at her and step out of the car. I run to her side and open her door before she can get her seatbelt undone. I help her out of the car and keep a hand around her waist while we climb the steps to my building. When we enter the main lobby I let my hand linger on the small of her back for a brief second longer than I should. I let go of her and direct her to the elevator. We ride in silence to the seventh floor that I've lived on for five years. I lead her to my door, unlock the deadbolt and doorknob, and let her in first.

It's a small space, but I don't spend much time here anyway. Between work and hospital visits, I don't have enough time to really decorate. The only true décor the place has is a large painting my mother did when I was younger. It's a bright blue plane, which I had been obsessed with when she painted it. I smile at the canvas and look around the rest of my apartment, hoping it's clean.

My living room is simple, just a grey couch with a few blue pillows that match mom's painting, one lounge chair, and a TV. The kitchen seems clean enough, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Bella doesn't give the state of my apartment a second thought. She walks in without hesitation and collapses on my couch. I leave her there to go grab my first aid kit and a change of clothes for her.

* * *

Touching her is electrifying. I rub hydrogen peroxide on her knee in slow circles and watch it bubble as I pass over her cuts. One of my hands holds her calf while the other dips the soaking cotton ball against her. Her feet are bare and resting in my lap.

"Did you know it was me you were saving?" Her voice is regaining its strength but she still sounds so weak and shaken. It takes everything in me not to storm back to that alley and kill the man that did this to her.

"Not at first," I say. I tell myself it's not technically a lie. "I heard a woman scream and I took off."

She mumbles under her breath what I think is "fate," but I don't push. She's still upset and I want to let her calm down.

After I have band-aids on both her knees and have given her some pain-killers I have no reason to touch her. I feel the loss instantly as she walks to my only bathroom to change.

She emerges a few minutes later and _damn_ does she look good in my clothes. My shirt hangs off of her shoulders slightly and the basketball shorts nearly go to her ankles, but even as ridiculous as she looks, I still find her incredibly sexy. I can't believe I'm thinking about it given our current situation, but even as upset as she is, she's beautiful.

"I know, I know," she says, flashing me a weak smile, "I look like a mountain."

I chuckle and pat the space next to me as an invitation for her to return to the couch.

She doesn't hesitate before she sits next to me and cuddles in to my side.

"Tell me if this is too much," she whispers. "I just need someone to hold on to me right now."

My arms instinctually wrap around her and I pull her as closely as I can. "It's not," I say, being honest with her for the first time since I met her.

She falls asleep in my arms.

* * *

"Tell me about yourself," she demands, sitting on the other side of the sofa from me. Whether slept for a few minutes or an hour, I'm unsure. I'm just thankful she woke up much calmer.

"Should we call your husband?" I hate that I ask, but her ring is huge and very prominent on her small figure curled up on my couch.

"He's on a business trip. He's flying from one work site to another today." She says dismissively, "At least, that's the cover he told me. I'm guessing Leah just wanted another month with him."

I recoil at the thought. Jacob is having an affair, but he wants Bella to be the one that ruins the marriage?

She must see my expression because she laughs bitterly.

"Yeah. I found out a few months ago. I was hoping it was just a phase but I guess it's not."

I offer her a wilted smile.

"I have shit luck with men, as you saw today," she mutters. I laugh because I can't help it. She's beautiful and she's funny.

I want to laugh with her often.

"Please, Edward," she eventually says, and hearing her say that sends my imagination into overdrive. The other ways I could get her to utter that very phrase…

"I've only met you once, but I feel like I know you. Tell me about yourself."

I tell her about what I can. I don't want to give too much away. She asks about my favorite foods, music, sports. She wants to know where I went to college and what I think about politics.

I don't tell her my profession, but I tell her that I no longer like my job.

"I only go in every day because I have to pay my mother's medical bills," I say bitterly.

"Is she ill?"

"Comatose," I admit, shocking myself. I've told no one about my mother except Jenks. No one else knows about her.

"Oh, God, Edward I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"My father beat her to near death when she presented him with divorce papers. She bled into her brain and developed what's called ventral pontine syndrome." I say, desperate for her to understand. I don't want her pity, but I _need _to know she understands.

"That's why you were so upset when you heard me getting attacked," she whispers. I nod without looking at her.

"She's not technically brain dead, but she'll never wake up," I say, void of emotion. I shut down when I talk about my mother. "Her syndrome has basically paralyzed every voluntary muscle in her body. She can't open her eyes, can't squeeze a hand, can't do anything. But she does have some level of consciousness. She does respond slightly to touch and voices. Not physically, but you can see her brain waves peak when you talk to her. If she were brain dead, I'd pull the plug. There's no way she'd want to be stuck in the body she's in. But I see those brain waves on the computer and I just can't do it."

"How long has she been like that?"

"Twelve years," I say, "When I was fourteen." I still refuse to look at her. I can't let her see my cold eyes. "The money from the lawsuit used to pay for her medical bills, but it ran out about five years ago. So I just have to work as much as I can so that she gets the best care available. Even if I hate it."

"What do you do?"

I hesitate. I hate lying to her, but how do I tell her that my job is to betray her to her husband?

"I, uh- I work for a company that produces and verifies evidence for various legal proceedings and court hearings."

She smiles and purses her lips for a moment. "I imagine working with the court system is more of a pain than rewarding."

I laugh softly in agreement.

"What about you?" I ask, desperate to hear more about her.

She tells me a million things I already know, but when I hear her say it all, I might as well be hearing it for the first time.

She tells me she's an author but she won't tell me her pen name. She admits that her books are popular and she's the breadwinner. She talks about her house on Walnut Street and her garden. She mentions her parents and how sweet they are, about how they've been madly in love for nearly 40 years and how jealous she is of their relationship. She talks about her brother Emmett and his bachelor antics. He's only three years younger than her but he still acts like a teenager. She smiles and says that she thinks he may be sweet on her publicist, but Rosalie has just gone through a messy divorce herself and is focusing on her daughter. She never mentions Jacob by name. I smile when I realize this.

Her phone buzzes and she startles out of a childhood memory involving sliding down stairs on mattresses. "Shit," she whispers when she sees the caller ID. With a slight grimace she answers and brings the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

I hear a masculine voice on the other end and tense. She holds my eye contact as he talks to her so loudly that I can make out certain words.

"Oh, I'm just heading home," she tells him. "I spent most of the day in the bookstore. You know how lost I can get in there."

Jacob's voice is so loud I can hear his antagonizing sarcasm as he mentions Bella needs GPS to find her way across the street without him. Bella rolls her eyes.

We both know she doesn't depend on Jacob the way he seems to think she does.

"How was your flight?"

Jacob complains about the stewardess for a good fifteen minutes. Then he complains about the man sitting next to him, the price of a beer, and the things Bella packed in his suitcase.

I leave the room to give them some time alone. I can't stand listening to Jacob talk. I hate that he's wasting time I have with Bella because he wants to complain about things that really don't matter.

While she still talks to him, I wander in to my kitchen. The clock on the microwave is flashing near seven PM and I realize I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. I look through my cabinets to see if I have any options for food.

I'm boiling a pot of water when Bella walks in the kitchen.

"I probably need to get going," she says, looking anywhere but at me.

"But dinner's just getting started," I protest.

"I just got off the phone with my husband, Edward. _My husband._ You know what that means."

I nod sullenly. She may be married to a total prick, but she's still married. It's a boundary neither of us wants to cross.

"Let me just finish boiling the noodles and I'll drive you home."

I turn away from her to hide my resigned frown and add in the noodles.

"Is someone else coming over for dinner?"

"No, why?"

"You just used an entire package of angel hair."

I look at the empty bag I'm holding and realize that I have just dumped an entire family pack into my pot. I hadn't even noticed.

"Oh, I guess I'll just have lots of leftovers."

"You're going to eat alone?"

"I usually do. Aren't you?"

She smiles sadly at me. "I usually do," she repeats.

"Oh."

"It seems like such a shame to waste that much spaghetti," she mumbles, almost like she's afraid to say the words. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if I stayed for dinner with a friend."

"Yeah, friends do that," I say, ecstatic that she's willing to stay with me for another hour or two.

* * *

Two hours turns into five quickly. We've moved on from our spaghetti dinner and are playing some card game. I've never heard of it, but it involves trying to slap the other person's cards before they do and I get to touch her hands a lot so I'm not complaining.

She beats me four times before she suggests a movie. I suggest a bottle of wine.

* * *

A loud bang jolts me from sleep.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. My eyes sting and my lower back aches. I groan and push my arms as high above me as I can.

A loud knock on the door catches my attention and I realize I'm laying under a blanket on my living room floor. A soft moan that is not mine surprises me, and I'm shocked to see Bella lying on the floor next to me.

It _wasn't _a dream. I'm nearly ecstatic.

"Edward, make it stop," she groans, further pushing her face into a couch cushion we pulled on to the floor the night before.

I'm confused briefly when I realize someone is still knocking on my door. They yell out to me from the other side.

"Edward, are you in there? I'm worried man!"

I spring up from the floor and am racing towards the door before I can even look at the clock. I open the door and force myself out into the hallway before Jenks can see Bella sleeping on my living room floor.

"Shit, man," he complains. "You had me worried. You never showed up this morning."

"I'm sorry, Jenks," I pull the hair at the top of my neck and try to look sympathetic.

"You're still wearing your clothes from yesterday. Are you okay?"

I look down and see that I'm indeed wearing my wrinkled button up and slacks from the day before.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I say. "I just didn't feel well last night and must have fallen asleep on the couch. I guess I slept through my alarm."

"And all of my phone calls. Are you feeling better?"

I think of the beautiful woman asleep in my apartment and realize I'd much rather spend the day _with _her instead of following her.

"Not really," I say, rubbing my stomach and looking away from him. "I'm definitely coming down with something."

And now I've officially lied to everyone that is important in my life.

Jenks sighs and nods. "Stay home today. I can check up on Mrs. Black if you want."

"No!" I reply way too enthusiastically, and Jenks is instantly on edge. "I can't stay home," I cover. "I need the money."

"Oh," he says quietly. There's still a question in his eyes but he doesn't voice it. I nearly sigh in relief for covering my slip.

"I'll check up on her, but I don't think she has any plans today. I may leave early."

Jenks nods at me again. "Whatever you need, man. Just let me know."

I thank him and slide back in to my apartment after he leaves. I shut the door and groan at the sight before me.

Bella is laying face down on my floor. The blanket we pulled over us while we watched a movie last night has been pushed down to just below her waist, and my t-shirt has ridden up to her ribs. She looks sinful.

I walk past her, desperate to touch her but refusing to, and make coffee. I make it the way I know she likes it, having seen her order at Starbucks a few times. I hear her grumbling from the living room and smile as she appears in the doorway to my kitchen. Her hair is a mess, but my clothes have been returned to their proper places on her small frame.

"Morning," I say, and I hand her a cup of coffee before pouring myself one.

"Morning," she replies, taking a sip from her mug. Her eyes flash with surprise and she pulls her lips away from the edge.

"How did you know how I liked my coffee?"

_Shit. _

"Oh, uh, that was my mug. I must have handed you the wrong one," I cover. "You like it with sugar, no cream?"

She smiles at me and nods gently. "Who was at the door?"

"A coworker of mine, they were worried when I didn't show up this morning."

"Oh, no! Edward, did I get you in trouble?"

I smile; she's so concerned and selfless. "No, Bella, I didn't get in to trouble. Honestly. This is the first time I haven't showed in eight years. I told them I was sick so I have the rest of the day off."

"But you'll lose a whole day of pay!"

"If you feel badly about me missing a day of work, maybe you can help me make it worth while."

She smiles wickedly at me. "What did you have in mind?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Three weeks in a row! Are ya'll impressed? ;)**

* * *

I smile at the woman in my kitchen. She smiles back.

We just stand there and smile at each other for a few moments, and then her stomach growls loudly.

I laugh at the sounds breaking our bubble and look over to the clock on my oven. I'm shocked to see we slept till just past ten.

"How about we go grab some food?" I ask.

"That sounds great," she says, "but I need a shower and a change of clothes. My dress is kind of destroyed, and as pretty as I must look in your clothes…" she trails off.

"You look pretty in anything," I say, not thinking. She blushes and looks down, and I feel equal parts guilty and ecstatic for getting a response out of her. "I think I may have some clothes here," I say.

She arches an eyebrow at me, and my gut drops a little bit when I realize what she's probably thinking.

"They aren't an ex girlfriends, or anything," I clarify, unsure of why I feel the need to do so. "I was out of town for a few weeks and let some girl sublet my apartment for the month. She left a load of clothes here in the dryer and has never picked them up. I've had them for nearly a year."

"Do you travel for work often?"

_I'm not Jacob._

"Never," I say. I want her to know that given the chance, I would never leave her behind like he has. "I was visiting with my grandmother while she was in hospice, and then I had to plan her funeral. She was my mother's last living relative."

"Oh," she says, and the conversation lulls.

"Let me see if I can find that box," I say, and turn to go to my bedroom.

I find the box shoved in the back corner of my closet behind a pile of old shoes. When I turn back to go find Bella, I see that she is already sitting on my bed. She smiles brightly, completely unaware of what even seeing her in my room does to me, much less on my bed and in my clothes.

_Right, _something tells me. _This feels right._

"Um, here you go," I manage, and drop the box down next to her on the comforter. She lets out a little squeal and jumps up to sit on her knees on the mattress. She starts digging through the clothes the second the top is open.

"I'm going to have a quick shower while you look through those," I say, needing a little air. "Then it's all yours."

"Okay," she says, not even looking up from the box to see the effect she's had on me.

I turn away from her and head to the bathroom and take the quickest, coldest shower of my life.

After I'm done with the shower I leave the bathroom to her. I hand her one of my extra disposable razors and a spare toothbrush I have around, which she thanks me for with another smile and a blush.

I'm a goner.

I watch some TV while she's in the shower, but before the program is even over, she's emerged from my room and is ready to go.

She found a dark blue shirt and pair of black pants in the box and they fit her pretty well. She has the pants rolled up several times at her ankles. I can't help but smile a little while I look at the hem.

"Shut up," she says when she notices where my gaze is. "I'm vertically challenged and your past tenet apparently had the legs of a model. Or a giraffe."

I laugh and push myself off of the couch.

"I've always thought giraffe's legs were too long," I say, and grab my car keys off the counter.

I see she's blushing again and looking at the floor, so I shake my keys up high to get her attention.

"Shall we?" I ask.

Bella nods and follows me out the door.

This day is already better than I could have hoped.

* * *

The wind whistles through the trees as we walk through the park. Bella's cheeks are pink and her still damp hair whips around her face as we walk. She laughs and tries to bat her locks away from her eyes and mouth. I catch myself staring and force my gaze away.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Her voice is teasing, but I can sense a small sliver of doubt in her eyes.

"Are you asking me that because we've walked around this park three times?"

She laughs at me again and nods. I scoff at her and pretend to be offended.

"I know where we're going, Bella," I promise. "This restaurant doesn't open for another few minutes, and I like walking with you."

Her already pink cheeks darken slightly. "I like walking with you, too," she says, and then the back of her hand brushes along mine.

I wait for her to pull her hand away, but she doesn't. Instead, I feel her fingers push slightly back, so that they push against mine.

I don't wait for her to change her mind. I link my fingers with hers and squeeze her tiny hand within mine once. I can feel my smile widening and radiating towards her. It's contagious and soon she's smiling as wide as I am. We hold hands all the way to the restaurant.

My dead heart swells.

When we get to the bistro, she pulls back on me slightly and then drops my hand. I look back at her and immediately regret it. She seems so torn.

"Maybe we shouldn't be in public together," she says. She averts her eyes from mine and looks to the ground.

"Bella," I say pleading for her to look at me. She briefly lifts her eyes but then lowers them again.

"Hey," I say, forming a fist and bumping it softly under her chin. "If you don't want to be here with me, you can go home. It's okay."

She shakes her head. "That's the thing, Edward. I _want _to stay with you. I don't want to go home. I don't want to spend another day alone. But being in public just seems inappropriate."

"Friends can eat together in public," I say.

Again, she raises an eyebrow, but this time it elicits a very different response from me than when she thought I had a girlfriend.

"Friends can," she agrees, "but maybe we're not exactly friendly. I don't ever hold Rosalie's hand."

"Okay," I offer. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. I don't want to scare her off if she sees how much her admission delights me. "How about we go back to my place and I can cook us something?"

Her soft nod is the only conformation I need.

* * *

I leave her in the car while I run in to the grocery store. My chicken enchiladas are on today's menu, but I'm out of several important ingredients. Like chicken.

I'm in and out of the store in five minutes. For some reason, I'm afraid Bella will be gone when I get back.

It's like I am afraid she may take off at any moment.

We drive back to my apartment and soon the place is filled with the smell of chicken, salsa, avocado, and spice. Bella helps me slice the chicken while I make the marinade for it. We talk, we play music and dance at our respective counters, and we laugh. We laugh more than anything.

Once the enchiladas are in the oven, we sit at the table to wait. The playlist on my stereo ends and the apartment falls in to silence.

"My mother used to love enchiladas," I tell her. "Whenever someone was sick, or if they needed food for some church function, she'd always make a ton of enchiladas. I was a disaster in the kitchen but she let me help however I could. Usually I just sprinkled the cheese on."

Bella smiles at me.

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

"She is. She was. I never know how to refer to her."

"How often do you see her?"

"I used to go see her every day. Then work got crazy and I had to cut back to weekends and a few weeknights. I hate it."

"She's your mother, Edward. She understands." In her eyes I don't see a single trace of disappointment. She's being honest with me.

"She would have loved you. I wish you could've met her."

"I'd like to," she says. "Would you take me to the hospital to see her sometime?"

"I- you don't have to do that, for me, Bella."

"I know I don't have to, Edward. I _want _to. I want to meet the woman that raised such an amazing man."

I'm shocked. She wants to go to see her? She _wants _to drive out to a creepy hospital to meet my vegetable of a mother?

"Okay," I agree. "We can go sometime. She's at the LTAC."

"What's that?"

"Long-term acute care center. It's like a hospital but for people that won't recover anytime soon."

"Oh," she says softly.

The oven dings and the sound makes us both jump. I laugh and pull our enchiladas from the oven. Bella grabs plates while I cut them up and scoop them out, and we sit across from each other at my small square table.

I watch Bella as she cuts a small bite of her food and blows on it before she takes a bite. She makes this little moan and closes her eyes while she chews. I force myself to look away before I make a fool of myself.

"These are amazing, Edward," she says.

"Thanks," I say, and spear my own bite of food.

We eat for a few minutes in silence before my phone chirps from my pocket with a text message. I pull it out and see Jenks' name on my screen.

**Is she doing anything interesting today? If you need my help, let me know.**

I close the text before I even think of a reply.

"Was that work?" I look up to Bella with a denial on my tongue, but she interrupts me. "You should reply."

"Sorry," I sigh, "It's my boss." I pick up my phone again and think of a response. "I could ignore him, but he's been so good to me."

Guilt rushes through me as I lie to Jenks for the second time in one day.

**She's just staying in. I guess she's working on her manuscript. I'll stay on her a few more hours but may cut out early.**

"That's nice," Bella says. "Not everyone is blessed with a boss they like."

I look in to her brown eyes and know this won't last. I can't lie to her.

"Yeah," I instead say. "I owe him a lot. He helped put my father behind bars."

Bella smiles softly at me. "Ahh," she says and taps a finger on the tabletop. "You work for the prosecution then. That's good. I was afraid you helped the bad guys." She throws me a wink and takes another bite of her lunch.

My lies swallow me whole.

* * *

Our plates are empty much earlier than I want them to be.

Before I can process what she's doing, Bella has cleared most of the table and is putting our dishes in my sink.

I turn to stop her but freeze when I see her standing at my counter.

I never really liked my kitchen until now.

She looks over her shoulder and sees me staring. A smile crosses her face and a blush makes its way up her neck. I shift a little in my seat as I see her reaction.

She opens her mouth as if to say something but no words come out. Slowly, I push back from the table and stand from my seat. She turns her body around so that her back is against the counter and she faces me. I take a step towards her, and I swear I hear her breath hitch.

Her phone rings. The sound is loud and harsh and we both startle at the surprise.

She jumps away from the counter and snatches her phone off of the table. She looks at the caller ID and answers it without swearing. I hope that means it isn't Jacob calling.

"Hey, Emmett," she says, and her eyes find mine as she speaks to her brother. His voice isn't nearly as loud or angry as Jacob's, so I can't make out what he's saying.

"Wait, where?" she asks, and her eyebrows furrow. "No, I'm not at home right now. I ran out to grab lunch. When do you need it by?"

She sighs and runs a hand over her forehead.

"Okay, okay, Em, calm down. Can I fax it to you?"

Suddenly she motions her hands to me, pretending to write. I understand her request and start looking for a pen and paper in my junk drawer.

Emmett tells her a phone number and she writes it down on the post-it I manage to find. Her handwriting is elegant, even though she only writes numbers. It strikes me that I'm standing in my kitchen watching my favorite author _write_. It may just be a phone number, but I smile when I see her touch the pen to paper. I almost want to ask for her autograph.

With a little irritated huff she ends the call and looks at me with wary eyes.

"I have to get home," she says with a frown. My chest pounds as I realize this may have been the only time we actually get to have together. I have no idea if she wants to see me again or if she wants to go back to her life on Walnut Street without a second glance my way.

Going back to following her would be torture, after I've gotten to spend time with her.

"Are you in a rush?"

"Apparently, I am. I helped Emmett write an essay for an application and he left the entire thing at my house."

"Do you have time to get your car, or do you need me to drive you home first?"

"Oh, crap," she says, "I didn't think about my car." She bites on her lower lip.

I turn towards my sink to hide exactly what that image does to me. She doesn't realize how many of her little actions have gotten to me this afternoon. I turn on the water and wash a few of the dishes we made while I will my body to calm down.

"I can drive you home." I offer. "After you get your fax sent I can take you to the parking lot to grab your car."

"That seems like it's awfully out of your way, Edward."

I grab a towel to dry my hands, and cover parts of myself that still need a moment. I turn to face her and lean against the counter.

"Oh, please," I say with a smirk, "It's not like I have anything else to do anyways."

Bella smiles back at me and nods softly. "Okay," she says, "but I'm paying you for gas."

I let it slide for the moment because I know we'll fight about it later.

* * *

The drive to her house is a little rough. I'm not that great of an actor, and Bella isn't that great at giving directions. I try to look like I don't know where I'm going, and as far as I can tell Bella doesn't realize I've been sitting outside of her house for two weeks.

Relief and guilt take over me at the same time. It's discombobulating and frustrating.

Within a half hour of Emmett's call, Bella and I pull up to her house. She hops out of the passenger seat but I stay seated in the car until she turns around when she realizes I'm not following.

She rolls her eyes and walks towards my door. My window is rolled down and she rests both of her elbows on the ledge before she leans down to talk to me.

"You can come inside," she says with a smirk. "It's the least I can do after you let me destroy your place."

It's my turn to roll my eyes.

"My place is hardly destroyed, Bella," I say, but I feel myself getting out of the car without much thought.

As we walk towards her home, my eyes flick over to the park where I spend most of my time these days. The spot where my car usually sits is empty, and I wonder if anyone else notices the same car that sits at the park every day is now in Bella Black's driveway.

Suddenly _I'm _the one that feels like we shouldn't be seen in public together.

I follow her up the winding sidewalk, looking over my shoulder at any neighbors that are outside. No one seems to think anything is out of the ordinary. I sigh in relief and follow Bella inside when she gets the door unlocked.

Her home is beautiful. It's pristine and well decorated and the complete opposite of my small apartment.

The foyer is two stories tall. A staircase is on the right of the room and a giant arch next to it leads to the living room. To my left is the same dining room I've watched Bella eat alone in for weeks now.

I'm stuck by how quickly my week has turned around. Just yesterday morning I sat across her street and wished I could simply talk to her again. Now I stand in her living room, mere hours after I held her hand and cooked her lunch. I'm still in shock that I have transitioned from an observer of her life to someone that is a part of it. Even if that part of her life is microscopic, I can't help but smile a little.

"He said it's in my office," Bella mumbles, taking off up the stairs. I stand at the bottom of the staircase, unsure of what to do.

Bella turns around when she realizes I'm not following her again and waves her hand towards herself in an instructive gesture.

"Well, are you coming, or what?" she asks.

I don't need to be invited twice. I take off up the stairs and follow her to her office.

Behind a pair of French doors at the front of the house is a room that is purely Bella.

Her desk, a small secretary's desk, sits off to one side of the room, facing away from the entry. A white laptop sits on one corner of it. A notebook rests next to it and a desperate part of me, the part of me that is obsessed with Izzy Swan, wants to steal it.

Bookshelves line two walls of the room, and a large window takes up the third. In the middle of the room sits a green Victorian style couch and a coffee table. A few books lay scattered around the room, and various little tables sit around, covered in various papers.

She starts to look around the room for whatever it is that Emmett has left there but doesn't seem to have much luck. I walk past the couch and instead opt to sit in the chair in front of her desk. Her laptop hums and I can't help but wonder how many of her manuscripts may be saved on it.

I turn my back to the computer and look at her on the opposite side of the room.

"So, Bella," I start, and watch as she digs through some papers on a small corner table.

She looks my way with a bit of a flush to her cheeks. "Yes, Edward?"

"You make your living as an undercover author."

She furrows her eyebrows at me. "Yes," she says, "we've established this."

"Would your manuscripts happen to be saved on this computer, mystery woman?"

She swallows. "Um, no, they aren't on there."

"Really?" I ask in mock disappointment. I run my finger along the track pad and the screen lights up at the motion.

"Don't. You. Dare," she says, walking slowly towards me. I smirk at her and flick my eyes to the screen. I turn her chair towards the desk and I hear her break in to a run.

I run my eyes over the folders on her desktop. I feel a little sense of victory when I see a folder titled "manuscripts," but she reaches me before I can click it.

One of her hands covers my eyes from behind me and I hear her laptop slam shut. I break in to laughter while she still keeps her hand on my face.

She turns my chair around so that I face the other side of the room again before she removes her palm from my eyes.

"Don't make me kick you out of here," she says with a smirk.

"I was right," I brag in a singsong voice.

"Yeah, yeah," she says. "You still don't know who I am," she retorts, and I try my best to keep my face neutral.

"You're really not going to tell me?" I stick out my bottom lip, but my pouting is to no avail.

"No," she says, and turns back to a pile of papers. "Now help me find that application."

* * *

It turns out Emmett is a police officer. He has been a first responder for the majority of his service but now he wants to apply to become a lead investigator. Bella seems so proud as she brags about how smart he is.

"He's obviously a little forgetful," she jokes as she loads the application in to her fax machine, "but he's so good at putting puzzles together."

I smile and lean back on the couch I have been moved to. I'm no longer allowed near her desk.

I watch as the papers begin to feed through the machine and realize that as soon as the fax has been confirmed I can drive her to her car and drop her off. Something about that though makes my hands break out in to a sweat.

Bella plops down next to me on the couch with a heavy sigh. Soon enough we hear the printer chime and a piece of paper comes through saying the fax was completed.

"Um, are you thirsty or anything?" Bella asks. "I have some lemonade if that sounds good."

I hope she wants to stall as much as I do. "Lemonade sounds great."

I follow her to the kitchen and watch as she digs through her fridge. There's a center island with a bar and a few chairs surrounding it. I pull one out and sit down just as Bella pulls a large pitcher out of her fridge. She sets it down and walks to a row of cabinets to grab two glasses out of a tall cupboard.

_Do not look at her ass,_ I tell myself.

I fail.

I manage to tear my eyes away from her body just as she closes the cabinet door.

She pours us both a glass of lemonade and we drink in silence for a few minutes. Her phone rings.

She picks it up without looking to me.

"Hey, Em," she says. "Did you get it?"

His voice remains fuzzy on the other side.

"Okay, good. I'm glad… You're welcome, uh-huh." Her back straightens and her eyes flick to me when Emmett starts talking again.

"When? ...Oh, right, okay. ...No, of course I still can. I'll see you soon, then." She hangs up and sets her phone on the island.

"We should probably get going," she says, and her tone seems so detached. I'm immediately on edge.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she says. "Emmett is coming over for dinner in a few hours and I need to start cooking soon."

"Oh, of course," I say, and stand from my barstool. "Thank you for the lemonade."

"You're welcome," she says. She grabs her purse off the counter and walks to my car without another word.

The drive to the parking lot near the bookstore is silent. Bella has gone from bubbly and happy to distant and quiet in the minutes following her brother's phone call. I don't know what to think of the sudden change.

I park next to her car and Bella pulls her purse in to her lap. She digs through it for a minute and pulls out her wallet. I realize she's trying to make good on her promise to pay for my gas.

"You can put that away right now," I say, giving her a pointed look.

"It's the least I can do, Edward. You saved me yesterday, missed work today, and drove me all over town. I can pay for some gasoline."

"Don't worry about it," I say, but she still keeps her wallet in her lap.

"I owe you this, Edward."

"Tell you what," I say, feeling my nerves crawl up my spine, "how about I let you pay for our next lunch instead?"

_There_, I think. _It's out there._ I've laid my cards on the table and admitted I'd like to see her again. The ball is in her court and I pray she doesn't pelt it at me.

A heavy sigh escapes her and I feel my hope deflate.

"Edward…" she says, but pauses to shake her head. "I'm a married woman. I took a vow. We may call ourselves friends, but I've already crossed a line. I'm not sure that this is a relationship we can maintain."

"You crossed a line? What line?" I ask.

"I held your hand, Edward. I initiated that and it was completely inappropriate. It's not okay for me to do that."

"Okay," I say, "then we won't hold hands."

"Then what about that moment in your kitchen? God knows what might have happened in Emmett hadn't called."

"So we'll leave our phones on."

"I don't know that-"

I interrupt her.

"At least give friendship a chance, Bella." I say. "I promise not to act on any attractions I may have, and if at any point it gets to be too much, you can tell me. You can walk away any time. Just let us try. We can go to lunch and keep it friendly."

She sighs again and sits quietly for a minute.

"Okay," she finally says.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she repeats. "We can be friends. We can try."

_I'll take what I can get._

She grabs her phone out of her purse and hands it to me.

"Put your number in and I'll call you about lunch," she says.

I type my number in to her contacts and text myself so that I'll have hers, too.

I hand it back to her and smile when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I've known her number for two weeks. I've scanned her phone records and watched her activity. It feels totally different to actually receive a message from her phone rather than to just hack one.

"I'll talk to you soon," she says, and opens her car door. "And thank you again, Edward."

I nod at her and she shuts the door before I can think of anything to say. I let my car idle in the lot while I watch her load up in to hers and drive off before I head home.

* * *

A few hours later, while I sit on my couch and rewatch the movie Bella and I did the night before, my phone buzzes.

**I left my new books in your car. You better treat them well until I can get them back. **

I smile as I type out my response.

**Why? Did you write one of them?**

Her reply comes before I can even set my phone down.

**You'll never know. ;)**

One half of me enjoys her teasing response. The other half yells at me: _liar._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi, ya'll. My first medical board exam is on Wednesday. It's an eight hour exam and pretty much determines what field I'll practice in in two years. If you don't mind saying a prayer for me, I'd really appreciate it :)_

_Follow me on twitter at TayBeeTwi. I post a teaser every Monday!_

_See you on the other side._

* * *

The next morning I sit at my kitchen table way past the time I'm supposed to be at Bella Black's house.

I sat down to eat some breakfast when it hit me. It seemed like a normal morning until I realized that as soon as I finished my bagel and coffee, I was supposed to go to work.

My bagel now sits in front of me half eaten. My coffee has gone cold. I still sit in the same chair Bella sat in just the other day for dinner. Part of me knows that as soon as I stand up from this table, my decision will have been made.

I will either go to Bella's house and continue spying on her, or I won't.

I can't follow Bella anymore. I convinced her to let me be her friend, and I won't betray her trust.

I can't lie to Jenks. I've worked with the man for eight years. His entire livelihood is invested in our practice.

I'm torn between two opposite realities, and regardless of which one I end up in, someone is going to wind up hurt.

Something in my gut tells me I know exactly what reality I want to choose, emotional risks be damned.

I push myself back from the table and head out to my car, determined to at least leave my apartment today.

* * *

Unwilling to sit outside of Bella's house, and unable to go sit at the office and raise suspicion with Jenks, I go to the LTAC. I haven't seen my mother since I saved Bella in the alley, and I miss her.

Alice is off on Thursdays, so I have to sneak in to my mother's room. Her nurse today is Jessica, who is nice enough, but very chatty. She always wants to talk about my personal life, and I don't exactly want to deal with that currently.

Mom's monitors are low today, and I like to imagine that means she's sleeping. They usually peak up after I start talking to her, almost as if I am waking her. She always told me part of being a mom was being woken up at any hour.

"Hey, mom," I say, but her waves stay level. I sigh. She has days like this, where the waves stay still, and I think she's finally lost all level of consciousness. She'll be back to her normal patterns the next day.

I may not have her waves today, but I'll talk to her anyway.

"I got myself in to some trouble, mom," I say, and I rest a hand on her arm. I frown at how frail she feels. I missed seeing her for two days and it feels like she's lost weight. I shake my head clear of my paranoia over her health and get back to the matter at hand.

"I met someone, I think."

* * *

I spend three hours talking to my mother. I have no idea how I managed to find that much discussion material. It's pretty difficult to have a one sided conversation that lasts much longer than five minutes.

Over the last few years, I've had to resort to reading to her or recapping movies just to have something to say. Today though, it seems like I can't get everything out fast enough.

I tell her about meeting Jacob Black and being hired to spy on his wife. I explain that I accidentally met Bella, and that I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since. I talk about her occupation, about how the same books I have read at her bedside were written by the same woman I'm becoming obsessed with.

I tell her about the many times I have been tempted to kiss Bella over the two days we have spent together, and how I have stopped myself because I know she'd be upset if she broke her vows.

I explain my constant urge to ask her about her books. I want to talk about her characters and ask what inspires her and when she wrote her first novel and if she still has it saved on a computer somewhere. I want to tell her how much I love her books, but I can't. She won't share that part of her life with me, and I can't confess I know about it because Jacob shared it for her.

I explain that I want to tell Bella what a terrible man she has for a spouse, but that she would want to know what has brought me to that opinion. How can I tell her that I work for her husband?

How can I make her realize what a scumbag her partner is without leading her to the same conclusion about me?

For a while I talk about Jenks. I admit how important his reputation is to his company, and I know that I could be putting that at risk with my actions. I know I need to come clean to him. I need to confess that I can no longer follow Bella. I ask my mother how I can possibly convince Jenks to drop the case. We've never dropped a case before. Ever.

We've never disappointed a customer.

How can I know that when I refund Jacob his money, he won't turn right around and hire someone else?

Eventually, I run out of words. I rest my forehead on the edge of my mother's bed and set a hand on top of hers.

Even though I spent the better part of my day talking to myself, I feel a little better.

"It's my birthday on Saturday," I say, and I sigh when I realize it's another year I'll be spending the day alone. "I'll be twenty-seven, but you know that."

My phone chirps, and I cringe at the intrusion from the real world. I enjoy escaping reality when I'm with my mother. I push back from her bed and pull my phone out of my pocket.

I'm expecting to see a text from Jenks, but something balloons in my chest when I see Bella's name on the screen.

**Hey, Edward. I can't make it over to your place today, but can I come grab my books tomorrow afternoon? There is actually one I wanted to read soon.**

Part of me is thrilled that I will get to see her again, but another part of me fills with dread. Is this the last time she'll want to see me?

I reply that she is welcome to come by anytime, and that I hope her dinner with her brother went well.

I don't hear from her again. That doesn't sit with me well.

I drive back to my apartment and pull the bag of Bella's books out of my back seat. They have been sitting there since I carried her to my car.

It's still early in the afternoon, and I'm curious and have an empty afternoon to fill. I start to dig through the bag to see if she bought a copy of her own book.

She didn't.

I look at the pile for a minute and decide to read one of the novels Bella spent so long picking. Maybe she has better luck at selecting reading material than I do.

Several chapters in to a murder mystery, I conclude Bella has great taste. I think I have finally found another author I can add to my list of ones I enjoy.

I finish the first book in a few hours, and sort of desperate to talk about the main character, I send Bella a text.

**Have you read any of these books yet? I just read one and it was fantastic.**

My phone sits silent for a few minutes before it buzzes with her reply.

**Ah, that must have been the one I wrote. I do think it is quite genius.**

I smirk. For someone who is so modest about her work, she does like to tease me about it.

**YOU'RE Gregory Stafford?! I could have sworn that was you with a beard on the back cover!**

This time her text comes back quickly.

**Way to make a girl feel self-confident! And if you spoil the plot for me I will not be held accountable for what happens to your tires.**

I laugh and hope I haven't actually insulted her.

**Relax, Bella. If any woman could pull of a beard, it would be you. And I'll keep the plot twists to myself until after you read it.**

She doesn't reply for the rest of the evening, and I know I have crossed the line she's drawn again.

* * *

I am still in my bed early Friday morning when my phone dings with a text. I dive at it, hoping to hear from Bella soon today.

**You are coming to the LTAC and you are eating birthday cake with me. End of discussion. -A**

Alice has always insisted on making a birthday cake for me ever since she learned the date. I appreciate the gesture greatly. It's nice to have at least one person to celebrate with.

**What time should I arrive, oh bossy one?**

I set my phone down and force myself out of bed. I brush my teeth and am in the middle of attempting to fix my hair when I get another text from her.

**Jasper is going to be here around noon, and I know he'd like to see you. Also, did you need 37 candles, or 47? I never can remember what an old fart you are. -A**

She's younger than me by three months, and she _loves _to rub it in.

**It's 27, and don't forget you are right behind me. Three years from thirty!**

I grin a little, knowing that that had to get to her.

* * *

My cake is bright blue with yellow and red borders and a great big "Happy Birthday, Edward!" in the middle.

Alice has placed two number candles in the corner, which are lit and proclaim that I am 72.

I laugh and blow out the candles as Jasper and Alice clap.

"What'd you wish for?" Alice asks.

I halt, realizing I didn't even think about a wish.

"I don't know," I say, but I think I know what I would wish for if I got to blow out the candles again.

Alice rolls her eyes at me and hands me a plastic knife. I cut each of us a piece and am delighted to see it's a funfetti cake inside. Jasper laughs at my obvious excitement.

"Shut up," I say, handing him a piece. "You're just not secure enough to admit how much you love funfetti, too."

"Or I'm not twelve," he says, grabbing a fork and digging in. I smirk as I watch him fight back any kind of reaction to how delicious the cake is.

After a second slice, my shirt pulls tight across my stomach and I lean back in my chair. Alice seems quite pleased with herself. She pulls a card out of her locker and hands it to me.

"This is from all of us," she says, passing it to me.

I thank her and open the card, smiling when I see that it's completely filled on the inside with various signatures and well wishes. I'll have to thank everyone soon.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I remove it from my pocket to see a text from Bella.

**Sorry for the short notice, but I am actually going to be in the vicinity of your place in about a half hour. Any chance you are going to be there?**

I fight a smile at the thought of getting to see her again. I will have to leave the LTAC now to make it back to the apartment in time to see her, but I should be able to get there just before she does.

**I'll be there. See you soon.**

"I have to go, guys," I say, looking to Alice and Jasper. Alice frowns a little bit and I know she probably planned to spend a little time talking.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I totally forgot about a meeting I have in half an hour. Will you pass around the rest of my cake for me?"

Alice's eyes grow wide and she puts her little hands on her hips. I realize I have said something wrong.

"No way, Edward! That cake is yours. You had better take it home and eat every bit of it, or I'm going to be so mad!"

I burst in to laughter, giddy from hearing from Bella and humored by Alice's outburst.

"Okay, okay," I say, putting the clear lid back on the tray the cake came on. "I'll take the cake."

"Thank you," she says. Before I realize she's stepped towards me, her arms wrap around my torso.

"Happy birthday, Edward. Try and do something tomorrow, okay?"

I smile at her and nod, unable to promise her much.

"Thank you for the party, Alice."

I turn to Jasper and hold an arm open for a quick pat on the back.

"Always good to see you, man," he says, and I repeat the sentiment.

I try not to break in to a run on the way to my car.

* * *

I get to my apartment in record time and set the cake on the counter. I rush through the living room and straighten up what I can. It's already pretty clean, but I still fluff up some pillows and run a hand over the dusty top of my TV.

Bella's books sit all over my coffee table. I straighten and re-scatter the pile of books a few times. I don't want to put them in her bag. It will give me just a few more seconds with her.

I decide to leave them scattered, thinking that may slow her down a little, too.

My phone buzzes and I see a new text from Bella.

**I'm parked outside your building. Can I head up now?**

My palms sweat slightly as I reply to her.

**Of course. I'm here now.**

A minute later, a soft knock sounds from my door. I open the door to my apartment, and a sigh escapes me as I see her in person again.

Today she wears a light floral knee length skirt and a simple black shirt. She looks beautiful, and she hesitates in my hallway.

"Come in," I say, gesturing to my living room and pulling the door open wider.

She smiles at me and timidly walks in to the room. It doesn't escape my notice that she stays as far away from me as possible while she walks in to the room.

She's crossed the line once with me already, and it's apparent she doesn't intend for that to happen again. I can see how she holds herself back, how she opens her mouth to say something but rethinks it and stops herself several times.

It's clear in the way she keeps herself as far away from me as physically possible. Every move she makes seems so forced, premeditated, and I don't like it one bit.

"Thank you for letting me come by, Edward. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you."

I bite my tongue and simply shake my head no instead of verbally replying. I don't know how to act around this Bella. I don't know what's acceptable and what's not.

"Your books are over here," I say, and lead the way to the coffee table. She stays near the door and looks over the pile before letting her eyes wander over my apartment.

Her self-restraint goes out the window when she sees the remnants of birthday cake sitting on my kitchen counter.

"What's that?" She asks, pointing at the leftover cake. I sigh in relief when I see a little of the woman I know peak through her well-constructed exterior.

_She's still in there._

My hand rubs the back of my neck and I look towards the counter she's still pointing at.

"Uh, it's a birthday cake. One of my mom's nurses makes me one every year."

"It's your birthday?" Her voice is soft and somewhat apologetic, but I can't understand why.

"Tomorrow."

"Do you have any plans?"

My forehead furrows and I finally look to her face. She looks upset and I would do anything I could to make that go away.

"I'm probably just going to watch a movie marathon here. Maybe do some laundry."

Bella's face falls, and she seems to hesitate for a minute before whatever she's struggling with resolves. She takes a step towards me and my breath catches. It's the closest she's been to me so far today.

"You should come over to my house, and I can make you dinner."

I smile brightly at her offer, but something stops me from accepting it.

"That's too much, Bella. I can't let you do that for me."

"Nonsense," she says, and the volume of her voice has risen considerably. "If you don't come over, we'll both be alone tomorrow night. I don't want to be in that house by myself, and I _especially_ don't want you to be alone on your birthday. Please say you will."

"Okay," I say, "If you're okay with that, I'd really love to."

"I'm more than okay with that."

Without any more hesitation, she finally walks in to my living room and sits down on my couch.

I thank whatever deity I can think of that the real Bella seems to be back.

She snatches the book I read yesterday off of the table and looks to me.

"Did you like it?"

I nod. "I thought it was really good, actually. Which is great because I usually have a hard time getting in to novels."

"Ah, you're a critic! This is why it's safest to never tell you my pan name. It's to protect my own feelings!"

I shake my head and remain standing next to her. "I'm sure they're wonderful."

She smirks but doesn't say anything else. I watch her as she picks up each book and inspects it before placing it back in her bag.

She's so beautiful, and I find I have to bite my lip to stop myself from blurting that out. I can't push our relationship and risk running her off. If she can let down her guard enough to at least be genuine around me, I'll take it as a blessing.

She finishes packing her books and looks up to me from the couch. She blushes slightly when she sees me staring at her, but I don't look away.

She stares back at me for a beat before abruptly looking back to her books. She grabs the handle of the bag and pushes up from the couch.

"I should probably get going," she says, her gaze still away from mine.

I don't hide my sigh of disappointment. Her eyes eventually make their way back to mine and she looks so wary.

"Do you want to come over around six tomorrow?"

"Yes," I say, afraid to elaborate any more. "Are you sure that's okay?"

She smiles at me, but it's wilted.

"It's your birthday, Edward. You deserve a birthday dinner. I can cook a meal for a friend on his special day."

"Okay," I say. "Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself."

"Then I'll see you at six."

Bella nods and I walk her towards my door.

She's still keeping her distance from me, but I find relief in the fact that she manages to stand just a little closer to me now than she could ten minutes ago.

* * *

I wake up late on Saturday. I can't remember the last time I slept in and I find myself grinning as I stretch under my sheets.

I have a few texts waiting for me when I find my phone shoved under one of my pillows.

One came from Alice came at 12:01 AM.

**Happy birthday, you old fart. You're officially a year older than me.**

I chuckle at her incessant mocking of my age but vow to get my revenge at her birthday party in just a few months.

The next one is from Jenks. I grow nervous for just a moment but feel a little guilty as soon as I see it.

**Hope you have a great birthday, E. We need to go out and celebrate soon. First round is on me.**

In my reply I thank him for the well wishes and promise to find some time to go grab a beer with him. He really is a good friend to me, and I'm starting to think he'll understand if I tell him I can't follow Bella anymore.

Just as I think her name, I get to my last message. It's from her.

**Two questions. Chocolate or vanilla? Red or white?**

As much as I love a good chocolate cake, I want Bella to enjoy the night, too. I want to know what her favorites are. I want her to share as much with me as she's willing.

**Surprise me.**

* * *

The day moves at an agonizingly slow pace. I find it funny that my days seemed slow when I was waiting outside her home with no idea when she would emerge, but even slower when I know exactly when I'll see her next.

Around five, I start worrying about what to wear. At five fifteen I realize that Bella may like some sweet white wine with her dinner, and I shudder a little. At five thirty I race out of my apartment to buy a good bottle of red before I go to her house.

At five fifty-six, I knock on her door.

Her door remains unanswered for a minute and wonder if I really am too early. I look down to my watch to double check I didn't misread the time. I'm only three minutes early. That can't be too bad, right?

I hear a bit of a commotion inside and I see her blurred figure racing down the stairs through the fogged windows that line her door. I can't help but smile.

She yanks open her door with such force that the air that follows it blows her hair back. She looks at me with surprised eyes.

"It's already six?"

I burst in to laughter. She's clearly not ready for me to be here. She has this beautiful dark makeup surrounding one of her chocolate eyes, but the other has absolutely nothing around it. Her hair is a little wet and frizzy. She's wearing what appear to be pajama pants with dancing sheep on them.

"Shut up!" she shouts. I laugh harder. My sides start to hurt and I clutch at one with my free hand. She huffs and stomps one of her little bare feet.

Despite the fact that I've managed to piss her off in thirty seconds, she opens the door wider and invites my still laughing self in. I take a deep breath and straighten myself up. I quickly run a finger under my eyes and fight back a few lingering chuckles as I walk in to her home.

She shuts the door behind me as I wander through her foyer.

"It smells fantastic in here," I say, and my stomach grumbles in agreement.

"Thanks," she says from behind me. "It took longer than I thought to cook some of it, which is why I was rushing to get ready."

I turn back to her with a sheepish grin.

"You're not ready? I think you look great!"

She frowns at me but I can tell she's fighting off a smile.

"Yeah, sure I do," she says. "Do you want to look around while I go throw on the other half of my face? It will only take me a minute."

"Sure," I say, excited for the opportunity to look around the rest of her home I didn't see the other day.

I remember the bottle of wine still in my hand, and thrust it towards her.

"I know I said surprise me, but then I realized you might try to make me drink moscato, and I just couldn't handle that."

She chuckles and looks at the bottle in my hand. "I figured as much," she says, and grabs the wine from me.

She walks in to the kitchen and heads towards her fridge.

"I bought red, too." She looks over her shoulder and throws me a wink.

She opens the fridge to exchange my bottle for the one that's already chilled and sets it on the counter. It's a merlot and I sigh with relief.

"Why don't you pour us both a glass and I'll be back down in just a minute."

"Okay," I agree, and she grabs a wine opener out of one of the kitchen drawers. "You really don't have to change if you're comfortable in those." She snorts at me.

"I'm very comfortable in these, until someone sees me in them." She turns to walk out of the kitchen. "Wine glasses are in the cabinet to the left of the sink," she says, and disappears around the corner.

I snicker one last time at her expense. She looks like a complete mess and she's still adorable. With a shake of my head I turn to the cabinets and open a few doors to the left of her sink before I find a shelf stocked with wine glasses.

I look around the shelf before I spot two glasses meant for red wine towards the back. Afraid to break any of her crystal stemware, I start pulling the other glasses out one by one and setting them on the counter before I can reach the right ones.

I finally get to the correct set when I see two small champagne flutes sitting in the very back. Curious and slightly masochistic, I look closer at the bowls on each glass, which have small engravings on them.

_Jacob and Isabella  
May 9th, 2008_

Something churns in my stomach when I realize they are the flutes Bella used at her wedding. I turn my head away from the shelf and start loading up the extra wine glasses without looking towards the back of the cabinet again.

After I've loaded up enough glasses to again hide the champagne flutes in the back, I walk back to the bottle of wine still sitting unopened on the counter. I get it uncorked and start to fill our glasses. I set the bottle down when both glasses are filled to a socially acceptable level.

I think back to the champagne flutes and pour a little more wine in to my glass. I nod at the full bowl and set the bottle back on the counter.

I swirl the glass under my nose and smile at the smell before I take a small sip.

It's delicious, and I take a larger gulp before I set the glass down.

Bella's voice sounds from behind me.

"Why is my glass so empty?" she jokes.

I spin around, slightly surprised to hear her, and my chest tightens.

She's finished her makeup, and she looks beautiful. A smoky black rims her eyes, and her lashes reach up to nearly her eyebrows. Her cheeks are a dusty pink and match her lips exactly. She's changed in to a pair of tight, dark jeans and a shirt that matches the color of our wine.

She shifts a little under my gaze and I realize I'm making her uncomfortable again. I turn back to the counter and grab her glass. I hand her the wine and she frowns slightly at the liquid inside.

I smirk and grab the bottle and she tips her glass slightly.

"Say when," I say, and start to pour.

She stops me when her glass is as full as mine. She smiles and slightly raises her glass.

"Happy birthday, Edward. Cheers."

I touch my glass to hers and the soft clank of glasses fills the other wise silent room.

We both take a sip and Bella sighs as she tastes wine for the first time. She sets her glass down and turns away from me.

"I hope you like steak," she says, and walks to the oven I hadn't even noticed was on.

"I do," I say, "is that what you've made?"

She hums and grabs some oven mitts off the counter. She slips them on and opens up the oven door. I watch as she pulls out a sizzling pot and turns towards me.

Her arms are uncovered by her top, and I see her muscles tighten slightly as she lifts the cast iron pot up to her counter. It's unexplainably sexy.

"Will you grab our plates off the dining room table?"

I nod and head to the dining room where she has set up a table meant for two tonight.

A thrill rushes through me when I see she's set one plate at the head of the table and one at the seat next to it. I've only seen Jacob eat with her once, but they both sat on opposite ends.

I grab the plates, careful not to disturb the surrounding silverware, and return to the kitchen.

She's pulled out several other containers by the time I set the plates down, and she starts filling them up without even glancing up at me.

I watch with rapt attention as she uses tongs to lift two still steaming steaks out of the pan and set them on our plates. Next she adds some kind of cubed potatoes with various vegetables and adds on some steamed broccoli. She returns the pan still full of potatoes to a food warmer and removes a basket filled with rolls.

"Would you take these to the dining room?"

She holds the basket out to me and I take it from her. I spot the still half full bottle of wine on the counter and grab that, too. I take both to the dining room and set them down near our plates. I stare at the table for a brief moment, and feel ecstatic at how much better this birthday is than any before it.

Bella walks in behind me with two plates stacked full with food. She sets them down and disappears back to the kitchen. She comes back in with both of our wine glasses and sets one down at each plate.

"That one's yours," she says, pointing to the glass that she's set at the head of the table. "Have a seat, I'll be right back in."

She's gone before I can say anything and I realize I've been silent for the past five minutes. I've got to start talking before she thinks I've gone mute.

I sink in to the dining chair and take a slow sip of my wine. The food smells amazing and I can't wait to dig in. I almost sneak a bite of one of the potatoes, but think better of it.

Bella comes back in to the room carrying a bowl filled with salad and sets it in front of me.

"In case you wanted a healthy side dish," she says, and smiles before sitting down in her seat.

She takes a drink of her own wine and I realize no lipstick is left on her glass. The beautiful color of her lips is natural. I hold myself back from telling her.

"Thank you, Bella. This has got to be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for my birthday."

She smiles and a blush rises up her cheeks.

"I'm glad I got to do something for you. Don't get too full, though. You've still got cake and ice cream after this."

I grin so largely I feel my eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Happy birthday, Edward," she says, and it's the best birthday wish I've ever had.


	5. Chapter 5

_This is crazy short. I'm sorry. I've been traveling all day and with boards I was just crazy busy. Next week will be longer. -TayBee_

* * *

Bella Black can cook a mean steak.

I have always bragged about my abilities with a grill, but her broiled steaks put mine to shame. My knife slices through the meat as if it is butter. Steam and juice escape each slice as I try to eat slowly and savor the taste.

My steak is gone and my plate empty long before Bella has finished her meal. I simply smile as she eats and sip my wine.

We talk about everything. Anything.

She talks about growing up in a small town in Washington, where her father is still the chief of police and her mother is an avid antique restorer. She tells me she came here for college and that her brother followed her several years later.

I let her do most of the talking. My childhood isn't exactly something I enjoy reliving, and I'd much rather listen to her stories anyway. She's had two glasses of wine and she seems so much freer, as if the only thing that restrains her is her own self.

She disappears with our empty plates after we've both finished our dinner and returns holding a cake. It's on a tray and covered in slightly bumpy icing and I fight back a smile as I realize she must have actually made that cake over buying one from a grocery store.

She thankfully doesn't make me blow out any candles or make any wishes. The vanilla icing is blank on the top of the cake, and I wonder why she didn't find the need to write anything on it.

Bella hands me a knife and tells me to cut however big a piece I want while she goes to grab the ice cream.

It's a chocolate cake. I smile brightly.

"How did you know chocolate was my favorite?" I ask when she returns to the dining room with a carton of ice cream.

"I didn't," she says, "You refused to tell me, remember? So I baked my favorite."

I don't know what to say in response, so I instead reach for my glass of wine and take another drink.

"I'm glad it's your favorite, though," she says, filling the silence.

"Me too," I say, unsure what I'm actually agreeing with. "Thank you."

* * *

We finish an amazing desert when Bella suggests we go sit in her living room. I enter the space and scan the walls while she remains in the doorway.

"I'm going to go put the ice cream back in the fridge. Feel free to pick out a movie or something."

I scan the movie titles in the bookcase next to the TV and smile or wince at a few I see. I rejoice when I see a collection of James Bond movies, but then wonder if the series belongs to Bella or Jacob. I shake my head and move on.

"Find anything good?"

"I can't decide," I say, and motion to the shelves. "You have too many to choose from."

Bella huffs and pushes me out of her way as she scans the titles.

"How about _The Princess Bride?_ Stick to the classics."

"I've never seen it," I say, and Bella's eyes about bulge out of her head.

"You've never seen _The Princess Bride_? How is that possible?"

I chuckle and shrug my shoulders.

"I'm not sure," I admit.

Bella mutters some things under her breath while she loads the DVD in to the player, but I can only make out a few words like "ridiculous," and "total classic."

Desperate to follow Bella's lead, I let her choose a seat first. If she wants to sit in a recliner by herself, now is her chance to decide.

She sits on the largest sofa in the room and something inside my chest swells.

I sit on the other edge of the couch, knowing that I can't push the limits but wanting to be as close to her as possible, and watch the first few minutes of the movie.

Bella quotes every line of the movie and I catch myself watching her instead of the screen.

After a few scenes she notices my staring and smiles. "What?"

"Do you realize you are saying every line out loud?"

She laughs at me. "No, I guess I didn't."

The movie fades in to the background while Bella and I pick up another engaging conversation.

* * *

The second bottle of wine appears out of nowhere. I smirk as I watch Bella struggle slightly with the cork before she finally gets it open.

She smiles brightly when she succeeds and tilts the bottle over my glass.

The deep red liquid sloshes around in the bowl as she fills it far past the level of social acceptability.

"Bella Black, are you trying to get me drunk?" I tease.

Her already flushed cheeks darken a little.

"I would do no such thing, Edward."

She sets the bottle back down without filling her own glass, and I simply can't have that. I repeat her actions, this time pouring the remainder of the bottle in to her glass.

"I don't believe you," I say while she gapes at her now filled glass, "but I bet I can get you drunk first."

* * *

My sides ache terribly as I laugh at Bella's story. She's telling me about her twenty-first birthday, when she woke up in her little brother's dorm room completely unaware of how she got there.

"I was mortified," she says, her cheeks a bright pink as if she is reliving the embarrassment. "He was just a freshman. He'd only been in the dorms a month and was trying so hard to make new friends, and instead spent the night babysitting his drunken sister."

"It gave you a good story, though," I say. I rock back slightly on the couch and my head spins a little with the movement. I frown as the sensation rolls through me, remembering I have to drive home at some point tonight.

Bella chuckles at something I am unaware of and my eyes snap back to hers.

"What was your twenty-first like?"

I shake my head. "Oh no, I can't tell you about that."

"It's only fair, Edward! It can't possibly be as embarrassing as mine."

"Oh, it definitely is," I say and shake my head.

"Please," she begs, and I can't deny her anything. I take the bravery the wine has provided me with and dive in to my story.

"I had been dating this girl, Tanya, for a few weeks. I didn't really want to do anything much, but she planned this huge party at her place. There were so many people there, and I didn't know any of them. Tanya gave me drink after drink and before I know it I was barely able to walk a straight line. While the party was still in full swing, Tanya grabbed a hold of me and started pulling me to her room. I figured she thought I needed to sleep it off or just sit down for a little bit, but I was wrong. Apparently she had decided that my birthday would be the perfect day for us to have sex the first time."

Bella looks away and I know the story is starting to embarrass her slightly, but she smiles and I know she's okay with my continuing.

"Maybe it would have gone well if I wasn't so drunk. Maybe that was her fault though," I laugh at my memories. "She closed the door to her bedroom and spun me around, which immediately made me feel sick. Before I could say anything, she ripped her clothes off and tried to dive at me. I dodged her and ran to the bathroom, where I spent the rest of the night throwing up."

She breaks in to laughter and I stare at the line of her throat as she tilts her head back. A red flush has taken over her skin and I find it captivating.

"So there you have it," I say, "My twenty-first birthday and my most embarrassing sexual experience all rolled up in to one."

Bella's laughter dies down and she wipes a few tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," she says eventually, but I don't hear a single trace of sorrow in her words.

I shake my head at her and let my eyes drift to the rug that sits under us. It's a rather ornate piece, beautifully woven with splashes of lime green and turquoise.

"Was that your first time?"

I return my gaze to Bella, unsure that I heard her correctly.

"What?"

"With that girl. Was it your first time?"

I smile softly at her. "No, it wasn't. I was seventeen, and she was a girl that had been in foster care with me."

Bella gasps a little, and I realize I have never mentioned my foster homes before.

"After my dad was convicted, I stayed in foster care for a few months until my grandmother could make accommodations for me," I explained. "I always kept up with the people that I lived with while I waited for her."

"Oh," Bella says softly.

I stare at her, unsure of what else to say.

"I was sixteen, and it was with my boyfriend." Her admission is almost a whisper.

"Your first time?"

"Yeah," she says, shaking her head, "in the back seat of my pickup truck," she chuckles.

"Oh, you're an exhibitionist!"

She gasps and her jaw drops open. "I am no such thing! It wasn't exactly romantic, just convenient."

"Well that's unfortunate," I say. "You should only have sex in public when you _want _to."

Her mouth pops open again before she turns bright red.

"I've never- I mean I haven't, don't…" she sputters off a few more unintelligible words and I fight a giant grin from taking over my face.

"You mean you've never had sex outside of your house? Or truck?"

She refuses to look at me, her hair is pulled over her face and I know she's mortified, but the wine has loosened me up and I don't have as much control over the words coming out of my mouth.

"I guess I'm not very adventurous. Not that I don't want to be," she adds. "But when you've only been with one guy he gets used to a routine, I guess."

I dig my teeth in to my bottom lip when I realized the first time she was talking about was with Jacob. I hate thinking about him when I'm with her. I hate remembering what he's asked me to do.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's fine," she says, and forces a smile at me. "I made you share your dirty secrets."

"That you did," I agree, and her smile softens and becomes more genuine.

The movie comes to an end at that moment and I turn my head to the screen as the credits roll.

"Oh dang," Bella says. "You didn't get to see any of the movie!"

"That's okay," I say. "Another time."

Our conversation returns to normal and I sigh in relief when I know Bella isn't going to ask me to leave after making her so uncomfortable.

Eventually we start talking about the things we do in Chicago.

"How have you never played laser tag?" I ask. "We have a huge place here!"

"I didn't move here until I started undergraduate! Laser tag wasn't exactly something a bunch of college students wanted to do."

"Whatever," I say. "I loved to play with my friends. It was always so exhilarating."

"It sounds interesting," she mutters.

"Good. Then you'll go with me next week."

"What?"

"If I watch _The Princess Bride,_ you play laser tag with me."

A slow grin makes its way up Bella's face. "Okay," she says, "deal."

I watch the movie with her that night while the rest of the wine wears off before I can drive home.

I park at my apartment well after two in the morning.

After I lock my door for the night, I send Bella a quick text.

**Thanks again for the dinner. It was inconceivably good.**

Her response is immediate.

**You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.**

I laugh, glad to have one more thing I can share with Bella Black.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the delay, all. AN at the bottom should you wish to discover why. Shouldn't happen again._

* * *

My workdays become an act of hiding from both Jenks and reality. I haven't once followed Bella.

I have already betrayed her so badly with my lies by omission that I can't even fathom tailing her another moment. It would make me feel like even more of a bastard than I already do.

Instead, I spend my time at my mother's bedside or in the nurse's lounge with Alice. She assumes I don't have any ongoing cases and am enjoying a little free time. I don't correct her.

I think about Bella and the situation I have put us in constantly.

A cowardly part of me wants to keep Bella in the dark and hope that she comes to the conclusion to divorce Jacob so we can advance our relationship. My heart drops a beat when I remind myself that our entire relationship is already based on my lies.

The part of me that is more honest, that wants to do right by this woman, knows I have to tell her everything.

I have to tell her. I know that.

I will. Today.

I don't think I've ever been so scared of talking to a woman. I don't think I've ever enjoyed it so much, either.

A few days have passed since my amazing birthday dinner, and Bella and I have only spoken via text. Some times we'll only send messages once or twice a day, but other times we won't stop chatting until one of us falls asleep. Those conversations are my favorite.

I pick my phone up off the table in front of me and smile as I reread Bella's most recent text.

**I'm wearing my tennis shoes! I packed band-aids! You'd better be ready cause I'm planning to do this all out.**

After a lot of persuading, I've finally convinced Bella to join me for a game of laser tag. She wanted to meet me at the gaming center, but I got lucky and also convinced her to let me pick her up.

I run my fingers along the pad of keys on my phone before finally typing out a response.

**You sound awfully confident for a woman who has never played laser tag.**

My phone buzzes only moments later.

**My dad is a cop. I'm good with a gun. ;-)**

Something about that both thrills and terrifies me.

* * *

Bella screams when she sees me running towards her. She zig zags around to escape my fire, but my gun is already locked on. The sound of my laser hitting her vest plays through the speakers. She squeals and curses as she darts around a corner. I round it right after her and she falls in to my line of sight again.

It's three in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and Bella and I are the only ones playing in the entire laser tag arena.

The dark black carpet is spotted with random fluorescent triangles and circles that shine under the black-lights illuminating the arena. Pillars and walls are placed in random spots throughout the large room, providing cover and hiding spots. Speakers periodically announce the score and play sounds of lasers over a background of space age music. A "reloading station" sits in either corner, one covered in red lights, the other in blue.

A large poster is lit up right next to the exit sign. It lists the rules of the game.

1. No Running

2. No Shouting

3. No Touching

With no other people present to taper our behavior, Bella and I have broken all three of them.

Bella disappears behind a pillar after I've shot her several more times. She laughs from her spot in the darkness and I shout after her.

"You're not getting away that easily!"

"Neither are you," she whispers from behind me. Just then, she grabs my vest at the neck, so that I can't turn around.

She fires off a few shots directly into my back before she runs out of her laser ammo.

"Shit," she mutters when her gun stops clicking.

I laugh but still can't turn around. She's got a strong hold on the back of my collar and I don't want to risk hurting her wrist.

She stands on her tiptoes, pressing her plastic vest up against mine, and whispers in my ear, "You think that's funny?"

Everything changes as soon as I feel her breath move in a hot wave against my neck. I don't answer her question. My breath hitches and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She notices my reaction and drops the back of my plastic vest from her grip with a short, high-pitched gasp.

I turn around on my heels and lock eyes with her. We stay frozen for just a moment, but I can't physically keep myself distant from her. I take a step towards her, and she takes a step away from me. Her back hits the same pillar she hid behind moments ago. Her eyes stay glued to mine.

"No," I say to her, "nothing about this is funny."

She nods, and I notice her forehead is covered with a sheen layer of perspiration from our game. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she recovers from the constant running we have done. Her hair is wild, with strands sticking up in random places from the wind that rushed past her while she darted in between hiding spots.

My hand rises to a lock that has gotten caught in her vest and I softly pull it free before letting it fall back to its natural place. My palm lingers near her.

My eyes wander from her hair to her face and I notice a stray tear running down her still flushed cheek.

My hand moves to wipe it away before my brain can think to stop it. My thumb brushes the tear away and my palm cups the side of her face. Her heat burns in to me.

"Please don't cry," I beg.

She looks to the floor and closes her eyes, but leans further in to my hand. A warm rush of hope flows through me.

She minutely shakes her head while it rests in my palm.

"I took a vow, Edward, and I want to break it so badly."

I don't say anything. I can't tell her it's okay to ignore her vows, even though her slime bag husband already has. Neither of us wants to break her already broken marriage, but neither of us knows why.

She pulls her face away from me when I remain silent. Her unsure, tortured eyes search my face for something I'm unsure of.

I sigh and push a strand of hair behind her ear. I take a step closer to her and rest my elbow against the wall next to her.

"I want that, too," I finally say. "I know that we shouldn't want this. I know it's wrong. But it doesn't feel wrong at all."

A sob escapes her lips and she dives at me. Her arms wrap around me and I stiffen in shock as her lips connect to mine.

I react in seconds, drop my gun and thread my fingers through her hair. She lets out a soft moan at the contact and her lips open just slightly to mine.

I pull her tightly to me, as if she may disappear at any second. I keep one hand on the back of her head and drop my other to the small of her back. I bend my knees and push her even closer to me. I feel her feet lift slightly off the floor as I grab at her, so that only her toes touch the ground.

We're a mess of lips and teeth and hands and tears as we continue to kiss. She breaks away for air and I move my lips to her neck. She's too addicting. Her smell is too perfect. Her pulse is too quick.

I suck on her pulse point for a moment, place a final kiss to it, before I step back.

We stare at each other for a moment while we catch our breaths. I watch as her chest heaves for a reason much different than it did just a few minutes ago.

I don't move, afraid to scare her off. I want any decisions to be hers. I want to make sure she never second-guesses what we've just done.

She takes a small step towards me, and her mouth drops open. I brace myself for what ever it is she's planning to say.

A loud boom from the speakers halts her. They announce that the game is over and that the blue team has won. The music stops. The overhead lights flick back on, and the harsh fluorescent bulbs blanket the room in a bright, unforgiving white.

Just like that, the spell is over.

The lust leaves her eyes as quickly as the panic takes over them. She stares at me with wide eyes and pushes a hand through her now tangled hair. She holds her place for just a moment, but suddenly steps around me. She sprints to the exit. I stand frozen for a moment before I chase after her, shouting her name.

She disappears through the door and I up my pace.

"Bella!"

The door almost hits her when I open it. I stall and look at her back for a moment. She's standing in front of a man who must be two feet taller than her.

"Looks like blue team won," he says, handing us both a sheet of paper. He looks at his own score sheet before his brows furrow.

"Huh, that's weird. The system didn't record any shots in the last ten minutes. Must have been malfunctioning."

He reaches towards Bella and pulls on some Velcro at her shoulders. Her vest falls and he has to move quickly to catch it before it hits the ground. Bella moves her arms stiffly and the vest finally slips off. I follow his lead and remove my own vest before returning it to the hook. He takes and shelves our guns before walking off in the other direction shouting for a manager.

Bella and I both stay glued to our spot long after the man disappears. She refuses to look at me. Something burns hot in my chest.

"Why did you run?" I finally ask, my voice shaking with effort and emotion.

She wipes a tear from her eye. I dare not reach for it.

"I'm an adulteress, Edward." She sighs one last time before she slowly walks away from me. "Please take me home."

* * *

Not a word is spoken in my car. I drive to her house totally mute, and she doesn't make a sound.

Silent tears run down her cheeks for the entire drive. She doesn't touch them, but instead lets them reach the bottom of her chin and drip on to her folded hands.

After an agonizing ride, I pull in to the driveway and turn off my car.

"Bella-" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"I can never see you again," she whispers. She forces her door open, the first time she has ever opened her own door, and gets out of the car before I can protest. The door shuts quietly behind her and locks me in to a stifling solitude. Without looking back at me, she runs inside her house. I sit there, frozen, in a horrified shock while the reality of what's just happened overcomes me.

* * *

I bolt up from my bed, drenched in sweat. Sheets stick to my bare calves and my chest aches while I try to slow my breathing.

_Never,_ her voice repeats in my head. _I can never see you again._

She hates me.

I made her hate me, and I never even had to tell her I was hired to destroy her life.

After Bella locked herself in her home, I found myself a statue in her driveway. I sat, immobilized, in the drivers seat for an amount of time I was unsure of.

When a car alarm went off down the street, I was startled out of my daze enough to drive home.

That was two days ago. I think.

I look at the clock and find that I've slept rather late in to an otherwise perfectly beautiful Friday afternoon.

I have a missed call from Jenks and I sigh when I realize he probably wanted to check in on the case he doesn't know I've dropped. I push myself out of bed, determined to leave the house today, and dress and eat before making my way out of my apartment and to my car.

I have to tell Jenks everything. I have to tell someone. Maybe a confession will do me some good.

* * *

I knock on Jenk's door before letting myself in. He's on the phone and a few tissues sit crumpled all over his desk. He looks sick as a dog. I sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and wait for him to finish his call. He eventually hangs up with whomever he was speaking and groans.

"I'm fighting death right now, Edward. I must have caught what ever you had."

I look away from him, unable to look him in the eye while I lie to him again. "Mine was only a twenty four hour thing," I say, "This seems different."

He coughs. "I'm miserable. I need to run to the pharmacy and get my prescription, but I've got an appointment in fifteen minutes."

"I can do that for you," I offer.

He looks to me with a huge smile. "Are you sure? You don't have any tailing to do today?"

I frown, trying to cover my eagerness to leave. I can delay my confessions just a little longer. Realizing he's still waiting on my answer, I think of the most honest response I can.

"Why bother? I've got nothing. She's a saint."

"Wow," he says. "And her husband has been out of town nearly the whole time. That sucks." Jenks looks sympathetic.

I groan.

"I know. Point is- I can spare a few minutes to run to the pharmacy."

"Thank you," he says. "I owe you one. It's at the Pharmacy on 15th."

I nod and leave his office, thankful for any kind of distraction from the fear and frustration I've felt over the last two days.

* * *

My frustration only worsens.

I stand in front of the pharmacist, eyes closed and a hand rubbing my forehead.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have a prescription for him."

I nod curtly and step away from the line, pulling out my phone to call Jenks.

"They don't have your prescription here," I tell him as soon as he answers, "has your doctor called it in yet?"

"I'll get in touch with him," Jenks says. He sounds horrible. "But don't worry about waiting for it. Thanks, Edward, for driving all the way out there for me. I'll just grab it tonight."

"No problem," I say and hang up.

I am walking away from the pharmacy when I see her standing in line.

She has rings under her eyes. Her skin has lost its color. Her cheeks have lost their natural blush. Her lips are chapped and bitten. She wears a wrinkled, soft pink shirt and jeans. She winces as she adjusts a heavy purse digging in to her shoulder.

I don't wait for her to see me. I don't wait for my common sense to kick in. I don't wait another second before I've yanked her from the line and pulled her into an empty isle next to us.

Her eyes meet mine in surprise. "Edward!"

I kiss her to stop the protest I know is coming.

She holds still for just a second, but before I pull away, her lips part. It's slight, but it's enough to give me hope that she might want this as much as I do.

I force her lips further apart with my tongue and soon we're all but attacking each other in the acetaminophen section of Caprock Pharmacies. A soft sound escapes her and a groan leaves me and our hands cover every inch of the other's skin.

A throat clears from somewhere nearby and we spring apart from each other. I watch in horror as I see her begin to doubt our second kiss within seconds of parting.

"Edward, I-"

"Please come with me," I beg.

I don't wait for her response. I grab her wrist and pull her out of the store. She doesn't fight me as we approach my car, but I can feel her hesitancy. I open the passenger door for her and gently push her towards the seat.

She slows for a moment and looks at me with wary eyes.

"Just to talk," I say, desperate for her to agree.

She shakes her head briefly, but sits down in the seat. I help her buckle her seat belt and shut her door before she changes her mind.

I jump into my seat and start the car. I'm in such a rush that I don't bother looking before I pull out in to traffic, and a car honks from somewhere behind me. Bella flinches next to me, but we aren't hit by anyone. I apologize quietly and hit the gas. We fly down the road before I have time to process where I'm taking her.

I pull in to the parking lot of the LTAC and Bella begins to look even more nervous.

"Edward, this isn't the place to talk,"

"You said you wanted to meet my mother," I reply, desperate to keep her with me as long as possible.

Her eyes are wide and uncertain and I can't help but realize that it makes me slightly angry. She shouldn't be worried around me. She should know that I'd never cause her harm. She would know all the things she should if she hadn't cut me out.

I get out of the car and open her door. She doesn't budge. I grab her hand and pull her slightly. "Come on," I say, pulling again, but she doesn't move. I chance one more look in to her scared eyes and they render me helpless.

"Please," I beg, and, embarrassingly, my voice cracks.

She sighs and gets out of the car. Immediately I pull her in to my arms and hug her tightly. She stiffens for a moment but eventually sinks in to the embrace and pats me softly on the back.

"Thank you," I whisper in to her neck.

She doesn't say anything to me as she pulls away, but turns in silence and walks towards the weathered hospital where my mother still lays.

* * *

**_AN:_**

_I'm amazed at the sudden pick up this story has gotten. I'm so excited to have a new influx of readers that seem to be enjoying the tangled web Edward and Bella are weaving. But I suppose with the many that have nice things to say, a few will get ugly, too._

_I usually just delete ugly anonymous reviews. I figure if you're too chicken shit to say how you feel with a username I can respond too, I shouldn't bother keeping it. But this one, I'll leave here, with a rather ugly explanation for my absence. Just know I love ya'll._

_Review: "Well, thats it, then. "Next week" is long gone. Its too bad about the story, it had a great start. Bye and all the best for you." -molly (guest reviewer)_

_Here is my response to that review, since I can't reply in person:_

_Well hiya, Molly! I'm gonna warn you that I've only slept five hours in the last three days and I'm feelin a bit ragey, so sorry if I let my inner bitch slip out. But you've managed to piss me off._

_You see, Molly, I'll be blunt here. I don't owe you shit._

_I love my readers, I do. I love my stories. I love hearing what my readers think about my stories._

_But I'm not an author._

_I'm a medical student in my third year. I don't know much about you, Molly, but I'm guessing you don't know what that really means._

_It means I spend 14 hours a day working in a hospital. I have patients. I am in charge of their care. And I owe **them**. It's my job, my **responsibility**, to care for them however I can._

_That means, Molly, that if I'm operating on a patient, and her case gets complicated, I'll keep operating. Even if her surgery runs four hours longer than it was supposed to. When she's out of the OR, I will talk to her family and watch her wake up from anesthesia and monitor her urine output like it's the most important thing I've ever seen. That's what I did yesterday._

_That means that if I'm walking out the door at the end of the day and get a call that a woman was just admitted with a ruptured ectopic pregnancy and is bleeding out, I put my car keys back in to my purse and run as quickly as I can to the emergency room to get her the life saving salpingectomy she needs. That's what I did on Wednesday._

_That means that I get to the hospital at five AM every morning, and if I don't have time to eat between cases, I wait until I leave at seven that night to find food. That's what I got to do today._

_You see, Molly, I owe my patients a lot more than I owe you. Because, unlike you, Molly, they can't hide behind a cloak of anonymity, and they actually need me to improve or save their lives._

_I actually see their faces. I actually speak to them and listen to their fears. I actually **help** them._

_You, I just entertain._

_So I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Molly. It seems I just had better things to do._


End file.
